What Did You Do?
by dreemseeker
Summary: Stephanie accidentally becomes involved in a mystery surrounding one of Ranger's friends. Afraid that her someday with Ranger is at stake, she will do anything to find the answers they all need. Established relationships. OC. Babe HEA.
1. Chapter 1

Standard FF disclaimers apply. Thanks to JE for the world she created for us to play in.

All recognizable characters are hers not mine. All mistakes are mine too.

. . .

WHAT DID YOU DO?

Chapter 1

Shadows played with the subdued lights as Stephanie paced the hallway outside of Ranger's office. Only the wall sconces and exit signs were turned on this late at night, and between that green glow and the dark stretches between the lights, it was giving her the creeps.

The two week assignment seemed to have dragged on forever, Stephanie's need to see Ranger had agonizingly grown during every minute that he had been away. For hours now, she had waited for Ranger and the team to get back. She had to talk to him, had to explain. It's all she had been able to think about for days.

One problem after another, however, delayed their return. And with every passing second Stephanie was getting more and more worried. She had been at the far end of the hall when they had finally arrived. Hidden enough in the shadows, she was not sure if Ranger had even seen her. But the quick glance she got of him told her that he was tired, distracted, and maybe a bit anxious. It made her heart sick.

This was all her fault, and she still didn't know if Ranger was upset with her or not. He had not said anything, not one word. Stepping out of the dark again, she hesitated only slightly before she headed back toward his office. A headache was coming on, and she keenly felt every jolt as her hurried steps led her back down the hall.

With the door closed, she could only hear the murmur of voices inside, but somehow they sounded so serious. Stephanie lingered only a moment, it felt wrong to be listening, even if she couldn't understand what was being said. Unable to calm her nerves, she kept up her pacing.

Reaching the end of the hall again, Stephanie stopped and stared blankly at the wall ahead of her for a few long moments before turning back around. Too many unsettling thoughts had been crowding her mind for weeks now, but the one that demanded most of her attention tonight came with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It had never been her intention to hurt anyone, Ranger would understand that. So why couldn't she dispel the cloud of guilt that was pressing in on her and making it so hard to breathe.

Clenching her hands into tight fists, Stephanie tried to stop the flood of thoughts that had been continually tormenting her the entire time that Ranger had been gone. Up until the night he left, it had all been going so well, and that's what hurt the most. After cutting Joe loose a few months ago, her life had completely turned around. Stephanie had worked so hard to change all of the things that she felt had not been working for her. More than that, she had grabbed her life with both hands and had taken the chance to go after what she really wanted. In a word, Ranger.

She was spending more time working at RangeMan than she did with Vinnie now. She easily considered this to be the biggest improvement in her life, because it was part of her plan to get closer to Ranger. And it had been working, at least when he was in town. His contracts still took him away sometimes, Stephanie knew that there was nothing she could do to control that. But even then, she had been so much happier than ever before. Everything had been turning out to be so great. Why did she have to find out about his friend?

The timing had been off, she will be the first to admit that, but what choice had she had? How could she keep something like this from him? The way Ranger had been talking about Chef, it was obvious that he cared about him, and she knew that he would want to know if his friend was in trouble.

That they had left, on another one of their top secret missions shortly after she dropped the bomb, so to speak, had not been her fault. How could she have known that they would be called out on such short notice? That she would not be able to talk this whole thing through with him because they'd have to leave immediately? Stephanie had agonized over the fact that she had not been able to speak with Ranger since then. Two long weeks had gone by without her knowing how he had taken the news that she'd shared with him.

Now they were back, but, unfortunately they had not come alone. The General was here too. There had been non stop meetings and debriefings. Even though the mission was over, something was going on. More than ever, Stephanie needed to talk to Ranger, but she had not had the chance to have even one single minute alone with him. In fact, she had barely even seen more than a glimpse of him since they got home.

Back in front of Ranger's office, she paused outside the door. It was quiet, way too quiet. What were they talking about in there? While she was sure it was important, it always was when the general was here, Stephanie felt that she would go crazy if she had to wait too much longer.

More than once she had marched right up to the door, even had her hand raised, poised to knock. It's just that all her worrying about how much worse things could get stopped her, and she could not bring herself to interrupt. No doubt much of her hesitation was because of the uncertainty of what kind of reception she would get if she did.

But she had to know. Once more she determined to go ahead and do it. She stepped forward and just as she lifted her hand to knock, she heard someone call out her name. Surprised, Stephanie spun around to see Ella hurrying down the hall. In the time it took to reach her, Stephanie hardly had the chance to wonder what what was going on and why Ella was out this late. Without any explanation, Ella grabbed her raised arm and started pulling her along as she continued to move down the hallway.

"Ella?" Stephanie tried to ask what was going on, but Ella just kept up her brisk pace until they reached the elevators. It was not until they had stepped inside and the doors had closed that Ella finally said something.

"Stephanie, I am so sorry to pull you away like that, but I have to talk to you before you see Ranger"

The doors opened on the sixth floor and Ella led the the way to her apartment. She ushered Stephanie into the kitchen where she proceeded to put slices of decadent looking chocolate cake on plates that she then set on the table. "Milk or coffee?" she asked, as she pulled forks from a drawer and placed them on the plates.

"Ella!" Stephanie exclaimed, a little bit annoyed at the obvious delay tactics. "What's going on?"

Ella just looked at her, waiting. In exasperation Stephanie finally answered. "Milk." She was already way too wired to add caffeine to the equation.

Once the glasses were poured and set next to the plates, Ella lowered herself into her chair and looked over at Stephanie. She took a deep breath and reached out to take Stephanie's hand in her own. By now, Stephanie's impatience had turned to concern. What was wrong?

"Oh, Stephanie," Ella said said softly. "I hated to drag you away like that, but I wanted you to know what's happening before you talk to Ranger."

Ella shook her head after seeing the look on Stephanie's face, knowing that this little talk was not going as well as she had hoped. She tried to smile, patting Stephanie's hand once more before sitting back and folding her arms across her chest.

"The thing is, General Kinkaid is here because some of the core team will be leaving again," Ella said. "Soon," she added, anticipating the next question Stephanie might ask.

"What..." Stephanie started to say, but she was cut off when Louis walked into the kitchen. Without a word, he picked up a box from the counter and paused when he turned to go. He exchanged a curious look with Ella, then Louis walked away, leaving the apartment again. Ella took another lung filling breath and leaned forward, bracing her folded arms on the table.

"You started the ball rolling a couple of weeks ago with that information you dug up," Ella said. Stephanie winced, but did not have a chance to say anything, as Ella kept talking. "They couldn't do anything about it then, but now something else has happened that is going to take them away."

"Please tell me what's wrong," Stephanie said, her voice soft and pleading. Ella nodded, absently noticing that their cake had gone untouched. This was not the atmosphere that she had been trying so hard to create, to help her soften the news that she had to share. But there was no way around it now, she was just going to have to spill it.

"Ben Davron was killed," she said. Stephanie pulled back, her eyes wide, mouth gaping open with a million unspoken questions. This was truly the last thing that she had expected to hear. Now she understood, she knew just how much worse it could be. The friend she had felt compelled to warn Ranger about was now gone.

As Ella had feared, Stephanie looked shocked and more than a little bit upset by the news. Understandable under the circumstances, of course. There was not much she could say now, to explain what had happened. She didn't even know that many of the details, so Ella said the only thing that mattered.

"The general needs the original team to help him figure out what he was up to and who killed him."

Stephanie slowly nodded. It was out of her control now, and yet, she still couldn't shake that feeling, deep in her gut, reminding her that this was all her fault. And now the guy was dead. What had she done?

. .oOo.


	2. Chapter 2

. . .

Chapter 2

Rubbing both eyes with the heals of his hands, Ranger tried to ease the tension that had been building. It had been intensifying ever since the team had finished their last assignment and had been sent home, only to be dropped right into another problem.

Actually, not all of this was a complete surprise. Stephanie had alerted him to Chef's situation before they left. It had been hard to hear that his former team member could be involved in illegal activities. But that had been nothing compared to the blow of finding out that he had been killed.

Slowly he pushed away from his desk. This night seemed endless and he was nearly drained of all energy, but now that he had a break, there was only one thing on his mind. He had to go and see if Stephanie was still outside of his office. He had been thinking of her every day for weeks, wishing that he could be with her, talk to her. But so far, since they got back, he had only very briefly seen her standing in the shadows at the far end of the hallway,

Though it had been such a fleeting moment, and he had not been able to do anything more that glance at her, Ranger knew that Stephanie had been waiting there. He knew because he had felt the tingling on the back of his neck. The tingling that always told him that she was near. He had missed that for two long weeks. There were no words to describe what it meant to him to feel it again.

It had been strong when they'd been ushered into his office earlier, but strangely, he did not feel it so much now. The disappointment over that, and of finding the hallway empty, left him with a hollow feeling in his gut.

There was nothing that he wanted more than to see her smile. Feel her arms wrapped around him. He had missed that more than he could say. He would call her, he decided. It was late, or was it early, he had nearly lost all track of time, but he needed to at least hear her voice. Ranger had just turned on his phone when he was distracted, again. Hearing his footsteps in the hall, Tank called out to him.

"We have to get there ASAP," Tank said, replacing the phone in its cradle and looking up as Ranger stepped into his office. Ranger nodded and slipped his cell phone back into one of the pockets in his pants as he entered. Unfortunately, and as much as it killed him, the call to Stephanie would have to wait.

As per the instructions from the general, before he left ahead of them to get back to DC, arrangements had been made to get the whole team together. They would soon be gone again, with no way of knowing how long it would be this time.

"The guys can be ready in fifteen minutes," Ranger said, dragging his hand over his face. They were all exhausted from the events of the past twenty-four hours. None of them had gotten any sleep, and it didn't look like that was going to change anytime soon. "Benny will be here with the chopper for us, any minute now," he added.

Despite their fatigue, both men moved swiftly, there was no time to lose. They had just lost a friend, and they were not willing to lose anyone else because of what he had become. Even the information, that Stephanie had found a couple of weeks ago, had done little to prepare them for this.

Everything was happening too fast. Even before the debriefing from their last assignment was over, the General had called them all in, assembling the team that had worked together years ago. Kinkaid knew that this group of Army Rangers had been through a lot together, and he was hoping that they could figure out who would want him dead, and to discover everything that Ben, 'the chef' Davron had been doing before he was killed.

Ranger followed his men to the roof, and within minutes, the black helicopter lifted slowly up into the gray cloudless sky. Just before dawn, the town below them was still asleep. The ride was smooth, but the atmosphere inside the chopper was turbulent and most of them had trouble keeping their blank faces in place. They were all lost in their own thoughts. And the mood only got darker the closer they got to DC, and the mystery that they needed to solve.

Ranger looked back, watching as his building disappeared from view. He regretted not calling Stephanie, he knew she was going to be hurt when she found out he was gone. Time had not been on their side lately.

They had been growing closer over the past few months, and he did not want to deliberately keep anything from her. But this time he truly did not know what he could have said to her, even if he'd had the chance to talk to her. Not only was what they were doing considered Top Secret, the general had warned them that since they didn't know who was behind this or why, they could all be under surveillance.

Ben had been killed. As part of the elite team, they could not rule out the possibility that he could have just been the first one. It was conceivable that they could all be targets. Until they knew everything about why he had died, they had to assume that their association with Chef could put them all in danger.

Ranger understood this all too well, and he knew that if someone connected Stephanie to him, she would be in danger too. No, Stephanie would not have been happy to hear that again, but it was the truth, his reality. Still, he wished that he could have at least said goodbye.

Ranger almost shook his head in frustration. His life was so screwed up. What he wanted from it had changed since he had met Stephanie Plum. Of course, he had been too thick headed to admit it for the longest time, especially to himself.

It had been so convenient to let the policeman take the blame. Easy to keep his emotional distance from her when he let himself think that she was interested in someone else. But by dumping Morelli, Stephanie had changed all of that.

When she had taken him up on his offer to have her run searches for him at RangeMan, he realized just how badly he had messed things up. Pushing her away for so long had to have been the stupidest thing he had ever done.

He beat himself up regularly for that, and at the same time, he tried to believe that he could now make her wishes come true. Yeah, he knew that she had a plan. Her heart was so open, her face so easy to read. He knew. That she had chosen him was singularly the biggest honor he had ever been given.

And yet, here he was, leaving her behind, still trying to keep her out of his life so that she would not be hurt. The last time they had actually been together had not been the best either. He had just received notice that they were to leave when Stephanie had come looking for him.

What she had to tell him had not been expected. He had been shocked, didn't know what to say. Then he was called out and before he knew it, they were loaded up and gone. For two weeks he had not been able to forget the look he had seen in her face. It told him that she did not understand. That she was hurt, by him. And that had been tearing him up inside all this time.

If only he had been able to talk to her before leaving again. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the tall seat. Not that doing so could block out the fact that his world had once again come between him and the only woman that had meant anything to him.

He wondered if she knew that he was trying to do something about that. In a flash of brilliance, that made his breath catch suddenly, it occurred to him that he should probably tell her. The assignments he had taken lately had been short ones, for the simple reason that he didn't want to be away from Stephanie any more that he had to. That, he realized, would have been a good thing for her to know.

In fact, the one they had just come home from was to have been the last. Would have been the last. Until word of Chef's death changed everything. Now Ranger was back to protecting her from the dangers that followed him. Back to leaving her. He hated it more than he could say.

Tank glanced over at his boss, his friend. Ranger looked like he always did. Blank face, stoic, fierce. Under it all, though, Tank knew that Ranger was worried. The safety of his team had always been his first concern, and now, if he was reading things right, Ranger was worried about Stephanie too.

Things had been changing for the two of them lately, and Tank had been watching with interest as they turned up their flirting by several notches. About damn time, if you asked him. But there was nothing to be done about that at the moment.

If they were being threatened, they had to deal with it and treat it seriously. Not that he liked it, he didn't, not one bit. No conversation was necessary for Tank to know how his friend felt. He just knew. He felt the same. If he had been in a relationship, he would be worrying too, just like he knew Ranger was now. The best thing to do, at this point, was to go and get the job done, so that the danger would be over.

Taking a look around, Tank recognized the fire in the eyes that met his. The determination to make things right. They were all dealing with the knowledge that everything all came back to what happened to Chef. There were still a lot of questions about him to be asked, and answered.

Ben had been part of their first team, back before Ranger had earned his name. They liked him because he knew how to cook, his nickname said it all. And 'Chef' had lived up to his name, using whatever ingredients he could find, in their different locations, to create the best meals they had ever had. Plus, the guy was fun to be around. He loved to talk and had enough stories to keep everyone entertained for hours at a time.

With the information that Stephanie had come across, Ranger and Tank had contacted the general right before they left on the assignment. Kinkaid had taken the news seriously, he knew that it could be even worse than Ranger thought. All of these men had been regarded as the best of the best, and Kinkaid had kept tabs on them since the team had broken up.

It was one thing to follow their careers, and another entirely to snoop into their personal lives, but the general felt like something had been off about Davron. As far as Kinkaid was concerned, Chef had been as good a Ranger as he was because of the rest of the team. He had long ago noticed that as long as he was with them, he had been his best self.

Now it would not be long before he had to tell them what he now knew about Davron. The news, that Ben's ex-wife had written a book, had been only the beginning. The rest of the information that Stephanie had dug up did not bode well for the former team member either.

Ranger saw the look Tank shot him. He gave a slight nod. In his mind, he tried to make sense of all of this. A train of thought started and he let it run through his mind. He remembered the moment that Stephanie had shared the bad news about Ben with him. A smile almost tipped the corners of his mouth at the memory.

Standing there in his office, twisting her hands together as she told him that, among other things, his good friend was about to be exposed by his ex-wife. The look in her eyes telling him that she was worried about how this was going to make him feel, how it could affect him and the other members of the team.

That was one of the things he loved so much about her. In her own way, she was always looking out for him, feeling the need to protect him as much as she could, but always willing to be completely honest with him. And Stephanie had good instincts. She had been right to be suspicious about the book.

Ranger felt the heat rise in his chest. Melissa had never been good for Chef. He had almost been relieved when Chef divorced her. But vipers like her never went away, and this book proved it. Just a fictional story, she'd said, when Kinkaid had confronted her. It was only 'loosely based' on her former husband's life. Another one of her huge lies.

She'd never had an original thought in her life. Ranger knew that someone must have given her the idea to do this, and he imagined that she had been all too happy to go along with it. Because what it would turn out to be, for her, could be pure profits, and that was all she cared about. All this from a book that, in reality, was a tell all, full of the stories from the part of Chef's life that she had never had any part of, that she had always been jealous of. What did she care that the things she was about to share would be giving out more information than should ever be allowed to go public.

That was the number one reason why, when the General had gotten that call from Ranger, he had responded immediately. Kinkaid found out the details of the upcoming book. Fortunately, he had the time, and the clout, to stop the first print run. National security reasons carried the weight he needed, but not in time to stop the select number of ARCs, that had been sent out. The buzz generated by these advance readers was causing him great concern.

Kinkaid had gathered the original team in a conference call weeks ago. Not only to let them know about the book, and the kinds of stories that were in it. But also to warn them, so they would be prepared if anyone asked if they had had a part in any of it.

Melissa may have been too uninformed to know what kind of trouble she was causing. But whoever was working with her was not. There were definitely some ulterior motives behind this. The general was naturally worried about what those motives could be, and the team was to be on high alert until they got some answers. When they did, those people would definitely be dealt with.

From the moment he knew about it, Ranger had wondered how Chef had taken the news about Melissa's book. It had been a long time since he had last seen his friend, and if they had not been out of the country on assignment, he would have gone to talk to him. This had to be hard on him, and no matter what he had done, he could have used some support in a time like that. Regret was a hard pill to swallow, there had been no way to visit him, and now he would never see Chef again.

Along with the rest of the team, Ranger was convinced that the fact Chef had been found dead, only days after the book had been announced, was no coincidence. Someone wanted him permanently silenced, and it was anyone's guess who that was. Maybe it was the people Melissa had worked with.

Or, given Stephanie's research, Ranger worried it could be someone that Chef himself had known. It seems that he had not been as careful as he should have been about who he associated with, made deals with. There was so much that they needed to know about all of this.

Kinkaid had flown back only hours ago, and now he met the the chopper in DC, the rest of the team joining them as they transferred to the private plane that was waiting for them. The briefing started as soon as they were off the ground, and the next couple of hours were spent in an emotional upheaval for all of them.

The last thing the general had wanted to do was share what he now knew about Chef. It was not any easier for him to say, than it was for the team to hear. Ranger had heard most of this from Stephanie a couple of weeks ago. Now he looked into the faces of the men he had once worked with so closely.

Tank and Bobby already knew all this, they were silent as the general laid out the details that he had. Since they were still with him at RangeMan, Ranger knew what their lives had been like since leaving the Special Forces. He turned his attention to Cameron Shields, the explosives expert they'd called Demo, he still had a hard look about him. So did Anson Bing, AKA Bowie, and Juan Cabrera, or Jefe. Ranger knew that these guys had been involved in as many undercover co-ops as he had, just with some different alphabet agencies.

The rest of the team had become civilians after their time was up. But none of them had lost their edge, he could see it in their faces. They were all ready to make things right for one of their own. That was what this was all about, no matter how hard it was to know what their friend had been up to.

Finally, the general ordered them to rest before they arrived at their destination. He knew it would not be easy, but he needed them to be sharp. After a few minutes, he looked around, satisfied. They had all been trained well. Shutting down and grabbing sleep whenever they could was still a great skill to have. They would all feel a little bit better when they got there.

Kinkaid set his watch alarm and closed his eyes. Knowing what they had ahead of them, he could use some rest too.

. .oOo.


	3. Chapter 3

. .oOo.

Chapter 3

After having her little chat with Ella, Stephanie had decided it would not be a good idea to try to have the conversation that she really didn't want to have with Ranger anyway. Deep inside she knew that if he had called her and asked her to stay, she would have. No question. But there had been no call. As it was, she had barely had more than a quick glance of him all night.

It just made her feel that much worse. She hadn't meant for any of this to happen. Never, in a million years, could she have had any idea that something like this was going on. How could she be so naive? Sometimes she just hated feeling so clueless. Her idea had seemed so fun, so innocent. It was supposed to have been a nice thing to surprise Ranger with. Instead it had been the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

Stephanie had to blame it on her curiosity. Or, to be more accurate, her obsession with finding out every little detail that she could about Ranger. As much as she was in love with him, he was still something of an enigma to her. A mystery that she wanted nothing more than to explore and uncover. And she had been having so much fun doing just that, reveling in each new thing that she found out about him.

That night, at Pino's last month, had given her another little clue to follow. She couldn't forget how exciting it had been, she lived for moments like that. It had all been in fun, and what she had learned had given her an insight to Ranger that she had never thought of before. Another captivating fact to savor.

The whole evening had been great. She had been watching Ranger with such fascination. He had smiled a lot. And laughed. Stephanie loved hearing his deep laugh. It was like the sound of it wrapped itself around her heart, drawing her further in. Absolutely irresistible.

It had been toward the end of the night, when Lester had flippantly tossed out a question to the group. His chair scraped on the floor as he stood up, to get their attention, and he was laughing when he asked, "What is the strangest thing you ever had to eat?"

Of course, all of the guys had stories that they were eager to share. Stephanie was not surprised to know that the answers that they started coming up with sounded absolutely disgusting. For over an hour they tried to gross each other out with their detailed descriptions of things with exotic names like Khash, and Balut. Before long, her sides were actually hurting from laughing at their stories.

Stewed cow's head and feet, duck embryos, and fried bugs were bad enough, especially when described in such explicit details, but it had been Cal's story about something called Kumis and the fact that it had ended up being the most effective laxative that he'd ever encountered, that had had everyone laughing so hard they were in tears.

Finally, Ranger spoke up. In his deep low voice, he simply reminded the guys of who used to find a way to make amazing things to eat, even when he had the weirdest ingredients to work with. Several heads began to nod in agreement. And soon the story of 'Chef' was being told.

Stephanie had watched Ranger's face as the memories were being shared. She could tell that this guy, Chef, had been a good friend. She got the feeling that maybe he had kind of been like the little brother who they had always looked out for.

As much as the tales they had been telling had been hilarious and fun to listen to, Stephanie discovered something. Something absolutely amazing. She had always thought that Ranger's eating habits just seemed very restrictive. But there she was, hearing that he loved to eat, and that he appreciated really good food. It blew her mind. Up until then, she had never considered that he had ever chosen foods for anything other than their nutritional value.

The more she thought about it the more impressed she was. And when it was mentioned, in passing, that Chef had been so good at what he did he not only ended up as a chef in the White House, he had a book too, Stephanie had had a brilliant thought, her greatest idea. A plan started to take shape in her mind.

The very next day she googled Chef Ben Davron. It popped up immediately, showing him on the cover of a cookbook featuring some of the chefs to the presidents. Seeing it there made her smile, she couldn't wait to set her plan in motion. And on a whim she ordered the cookbook.

How she wished that she had waited. With all that had happened since then, she now felt that that impulsive action had completely backfired on her.

Now that the book was here, it only served as a reminder of what her research had uncovered about the man known as Chef Ben. She shook her head, this had not turned out to be anything like she had imagined.

In her excitement, she had wanted to know about the man that Ranger remembered with such fondness. But not in her wildest dreams did she expect to find that he was not the kind of man she thought he would be. It was still hard to wrap her mind around it all. He had worked with Ranger and Tank and Bobby. Had been on their team. How could he not be like them?

Stephanie couldn't believe what she had been finding. And as hard as it had been, she had felt compelled to pass on the information to Ranger, she thought that he needed to know. She hated the idea that he could be blindsided by it some day soon if she did not warn him about it.

It had been a reasonable thing to think, at the time. But now, after not being able to talk to Ranger for so long, she was second guessing herself, wondering how she could have been so stupid. They all loved the guy, and being the bearer of bad news had not exactly felt very good. Why did she have to go and tell him what she had found? She hated feeling like everything had fallen apart because she did.

And now Stephanie couldn't stop torturing herself about it. Though it was the last thing she wanted, her mind played that last scene over and over again. Ranger hadn't said a single word. He had listened in silence. Then suddenly the team had taken off and he was gone. All Stephanie had wanted to do tonight was apologize to him.

She had had two weeks to think about it, fret about it, and nothing felt right. She was so worried that everything had changed between them in that moment. If she could, she would erase the whole thing, so that she could take them back to the way they had been before she had known anything about Chef.

Her heart ached at the thought that she had ruined everything. Her biggest fear, no matter how unfounded, was that Ranger would always associate her with the fact that his friend could have done all of those things. And now he was dead.

There had really been no words left to say, so she had left Ella's apartment and come straight home. Getting to sleep had proved to be impossible, however. Her mind would not shut down. Replaying everything that Ella had just told her, and then continuing to agonize over the things that she'd had to tell Ranger about Chef, kept her wired and tense. So Stephanie ended up throwing a movie into the old VCR, forcing herself to sit down, pretending to watch it.

In actuality, her mind seemed to be picking up on every noise in the room. Creaks from the old building, that were usually just normal background sounds, echoed in her aching head. The water dripping from the bathroom faucet pounded relentlessly. But it was listening to Rex getting into his nocturnal exercise routine that finally got to her.

Suddenly she stood and walked into the bedroom. Shutting the door only helped marginally, she realized, as she flopped down on the bed. She could still hear Rex. The little hamster's rhythmic pacing, that had always been so comforting to her before, now threatened to be her undoing.

Maybe she should call Dillon. Could a drop of oil fix it, she wondered. Were hamster wheels included in the duties of a building super? Those rambling thoughts were the last to go through her exhausted mind before she was finally able to doze off.

The next morning, Stephanie thought about the events of the night before. Wandering into the living room, she sat down, careful to avoid the middle of the couch, where it was starting to sag. Still somewhat in a daze, she stared ahead, not really seeing anything that was in front of her.

The package, that she had once been waiting for with such anticipation, sat unopened on the coffee table. It had arrived sometime yesterday. She had found it propped up against the door when she got home last night.

Rays of early morning sunshine began to stream through the window, demanding her attention. They slanted through the room, landing on the table. On the package. How could they be so damned cheerful, she thought. And try as she might, Stephanie couldn't tear her eyes away. Finally, in frustration, she stood and walked away.

To think that she had been so excited about it, envisioning the the amused look on Ranger's face when she showed him the book. Thinking that maybe he would share some more stories with her, giving her another glimpse inside of the man that she was so fascinated with.

What a stupid idea it had turned out to be. Stephanie slammed her open palm against the wall. She was heartsick and scared and unable to shake the feeling that things were just not right. By now Ranger was gone again. Ella had told her last night that the general was there to get the team together. He wanted them to help him find out who had killed Chef.

She shook her head, and started pacing. Stephanie could feel her heart pounding. Anxiety, fear, and panic were all building up inside of her chest. It just couldn't get any worse. Given what she knew about Ben Davron, she had no doubt that chasing down his killers could be every bit as dangerous as any mission Ranger had ever gone on.

Her pacing took her back over by the window. Turning away from it she ended up with her back against the wall. Slowly Stephanie slipped down until she was sitting on the floor. Tears dripped from her eyes. As usual, she didn't know where Ranger was going, how long he would be gone, when she would ever hear from him again.

Allowing herself a few more minutes of self pity, she finally took a deep breath and stood up. She would get ready and go into work, just like it was any other day. It would be torture to stay home, knowing that her fears would cause her imagination to go wild. Keeping busy was the best thing, so she hurried through her shower, pretended to eat some breakfast and got out of her apartment as quickly as she could.

. .oOo.

Tiny beeping sounds from the watch alarm penetrated the cabin of the plane, alerting each of the men inside that their time for rest was at an end. Heads lifted and eyes met.

Kinkaid was pleased to see that they all looked better. He knew that none of this would be easy on any of them, but they were alert and sharp, and they would get the job done. He had no doubt about that.

The plane would be landing in just a few minutes. Ranger peered out of the small window, getting his thoughts in order. The rest had helped, and he was grateful for it, but there was no remedy for how he was feeling about leaving Stephanie behind again.

He took a deep breath. The sooner they got this done, the sooner he would be able to get back to her. It was all the motivation he needed to get on with it.

. .oOo.


	4. Chapter 4

. .oOo.

Chapter 4

Dry Arizona heat blasted them as they left the plane. The air was so thin at this altitude, the men stopped for a moment, breathing in deep, trying to fill their lungs. They all exchanged looks, this had been unexpected. Not even being in the deserts of the Middle East had made them feel this lightheaded.

Kinkaid was the last to leave the plane. He took one look around and tried to hide his smirk. Growing up in Colorado had almost made him immune to the effects they were now experiencing. Without a word, he led the men to the cars that were waiting for them. Bottles of water were passed around, and it was quiet as the men drank deeply. It was a fairly short drive to the Grand Canyon National Park and he hoped that the guys could adjust before they arrived at the Operations building.

The National Park Service Rangers were waiting to brief them on the situation. Kinkaid knew that the FBI agents, out of Flagstaff, might also be there. Unfortunate, but that couldn't be avoided, this was a matter that involved national security. As much as he would have liked to keep it within the family, so to speak, Davron himself had made that impossible. He would deal with it when the time came.

Before long the men were ushered into a large conference room. By that time, Kinkaid was pleased to note, they no longer showed any signs of discomfort. He knew they wouldn't. Even if they were not completely acclimated to the new conditions, showing weakness was never acceptable. It almost made him smile with pride, he understood them well. After all these years, he himself, was used to doing the same thing.

Once inside, a young lady dressed in the standard required uniform, directed them all to sit around the large conference table. None of the men missed the look in her eyes as she watched them walk in. A group of tall, muscular, good looking men (if they said so themselves), tended to do that. In their hey day, they had become accustomed to seeing the awe and admiration of women around the world. It was nice to see it again now.

Their blank faces did not show the pleasure that her looks gave them, however. Most of them just nodded at her and took their seats. Tank, however, was giving her a look of his own behind a sober facade. He could not help notice that she did some amazing things to those regulation green trousers that hugged some impressive curves.

Not to mention that the starched gray shirt she wore could not cover up the fact that she was very well endowed. He let his eyes travel over her, from the top of her head, where her kinky curls were only barely contained in a ponytail at the nape of her neck, all way down to her size seven utilitarian boots.

He took a deep breath that had nothing to do with his ability to adjust to the altitude, and everything to do with keeping his eyes in his head. But she had already caught the subtle look, and there was a deep blush rising on her caramel colored cheeks. The woman, whose name tag read Nia Alkins, dipped her head and smiled shyly as she moved over to the door. Tank followed her with his eyes, noticing that she hesitated one more long second before she moved to leave.

Her departure, however, was interrupted with the arrival of several more men, and she stepped back as they entered the room. This gave Tank another chance to take in her beauty before she slipped out. With a shrug, he turned his attention to the Rangers who had joined them. The briefing was about to get underway.

Ranger poured himself a glass of water. He scanned the room, giving everyone here a good look. He missed nothing, he never did. The corners of his mouth almost tipped as he watched Tank's reaction. The man had been caught off guard by a pretty face. It was perfect, very entertaining to watch, and Ranger might have thought that he'd found something to tease him about later. That kind of thing usually gave him a bit of pleasure, but instead, all he could do was think about how much he missed Stephanie. Seeing his friend's interest only proved to remind him of his own. As it always did when he thought of her, his heart pounded a bit harder.

All he wanted to do was to take care of this business so that he could get back to her as soon as possible. And again, he wished that he'd been able to let her know how he was feeling lately, how different everything had been for him during the past few months. Would she want to know how much he needed her in his life? Had he ruined things between them by not sharing his thoughts with her sooner? A bit of anxiety hit him deep. He swallowed hard, but it would not release its grip on his gut. He took in a slow deep breath to stabilize himself enough to get through the rest of this meeting.

Now the men in matching uniforms sat down at the head of the table and with some effort, Ranger shifted his focus to them. He knew that the Park Service Rangers were the law enforcement here, and he was interested to hear what they had to say.

"Gentlemen, I'm Ranger Gielen," the taller man said as his eyes scanned the room. "We're a bit informal around here, please call me Mitch." Several heads moved microscopically and he continued. "We appreciate your involvement with this case, and since we all share basically the same skill sets, it will save us time explaining all of the issues that we've run up against since discovering the body." Gielen stood and smoothly moved across the room.

"That the body was found was, in itself, a miracle. Someone did not want us to see it for a very long time. They took the effort to dump it out in Tuweep. Here, off the north rim."

Gielen turned and pointed to the map that he had come to stand next to. There was a marker placed on the location the body had been found. He kept talking as he indicated a few more places on the map.

"It's a tough area to get to, only the most adventurous explorers like to go out there. And as luck would have it, one such group had arrived for such an outing the day before yesterday ." He paused momentarily before continuing.

"Ranger Wallace covers the Tuweep area," he said, pointing out the area on the map. "Most of the people who visit it do so by plane. Because he's got a chopper and a little Cessna 170 of his own, Wallace takes care of an airstrip just a mile from his house." Gielen turned to face the group again, taking a few steps to stand close to the table.

"Because of his proximity, Ranger Wallace pretty much knows every time a plane flies over, let alone lands there. He even contacts the pilots to give them basic wind info and confirm their landing pattern. Each of those contacts is recorded in a log."

At this point, Gielen braced his hands on the edge of the table and leaned forward. "In an interesting coincidence," he said with a deep inflection in his voice. "Wallace was not there on Friday or Saturday."

A collective grimace could almost be heard with his use of the word 'coincidence'. Mitch almost smiled, he was in agreement, there were no such things as coincidences. Slowly he pushed a paper over toward Ranger, watching as he picked it up and read over it. Ranger set the paper back on the table before looking up.

"Wallace was in DC," Ranger said, glancing around at everyone. "Asked, at the last minute, to take part in a panel with the Senators who are discussing new regulations that they want to impose on the national parks. Public knowledge."

A soft murmur of voices reacted to that news. Gielen straightened and all eyes were on him again.

"My wife might tell you that I am overly suspicious by nature," Gielen said. "But, I don't believe that this was a happy coincidence." He turned back to the map.

"This is the dump site, and it is not anywhere near either of the roads that lead into Tuweep." His finger quickly traced along the roads he had mentioned, then moved again to the spot the body was discovered. "These roads are barely paved and are hard to travel anyway, we didn't expect that anyone would have driven out there, not with the risk of leaving lots of evidence of their presence behind. And from the condition of the body, we are pretty sure it was shoved out of a small plane in an effort to lose it in what we recognize as one of the most remote places in the U.S."

"So," Tank spoke up. "How did this group of adventurers happen to find it?" he asked, voicing the question on everyone's mind.

Gielen leaned his back against the wall. He had asked the same question, individually to each member of the adventurers group. "They came to Tuweep to practice two things," he said. "Flying their small plane and rappelling."

Now some of the guys around the table were nodding. It made sense that they didn't want to go to the more populated parts of the park. Out there they would have had the whole place to themselves. They had counted on the remoteness of the area every bit as much as the killers had.

The discussion continued about the recovery of the body and the details that they got from the guys who had found it while rappelling. The adventurers, as they would be referred to during this investigation, had had the presence of mind to leave the body undisturbed. They took pictures on their phones to show the Rangers when they contacted them about what they had discovered.

When they went out to retrieve the body, the Rangers had taken more pictures of the body and the surrounding area as part of the investigation, and now all of these photos were being circulated around the table. For the most part, the pictures were not all that helpful. And fortunately, it was hard to even see that it was their former team mate. Before long, the one question that the General was waiting to answer was asked.

"We were told that Chef was murdered," Chandler said. "With the condition of his body, how did we come to that determination?"

Mitch glanced over at the general. Kinkaid stood and moved to the head of the table, next to Gielen. He had talked to Ranger about this, but not to the rest of the group. He now took a moment before he had to tell them exactly why they were here.

. .oOo.

The ambient noises of the comm room kept Stephanie on edge. She knew that she would not have to run into Ranger, since he was gone again, but it was still hard to come in to RangeMan today. Approaching her assigned cubicle, she slowed to a stop just short of the opening. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and then forced herself to move in and sit down at the desk.

She stared at the laptop. She hated it. Pausing for a moment, she stared at it, as it so innocently sat there, waiting for her to start her work. Stephanie could not forget that it was at this very computer that she had done all of those searches that had yielded so much unwelcome news about Chef Ben Davron.

Just as it had done for weeks now, opening the lid and hearing the systems start up made her stomach churn. Unconsciously she wrapped her arms around her waist and watched the screen until the programs had loaded and the log in box popped up. Her hands slowly came up to the keys and she started typing in the required information.

For the next several hours Stephanie tried to shove her thoughts to the back of her mind and just concentrate on the work she needed to do. It wasn't easy, but she pushed through it. She was determined that, if nothing else, she would continue to do her job the best she that she could. At least, in one way, she could do something that would not let Ranger down.

Her thoughts never strayed from the way he had looked the last time she had been with him. So distant, so silent. Why, again she asked herself, why did she have to go and ruin everything by snooping into the life of a man who she had never even met? It didn't matter that she would have had no way of knowing that he was probably involved in illegal activities. All that mattered was that she had been the one to tell Ranger about it. No one liked the messenger, any more than they liked the message, when it was bad news like that.

She needed a break, and finally she got it. About lunch time, Hector came around the partition and stood behind her. As was his custom when working the same shift with her, he had brought lunch to share with Stephanie today. "Time for the tamales I tell you about," he said with a small smile.

Stephanie happily closed the computer and stood. Hector was one of her favorite guys here. Though he did not seem to say much to the others, Stephanie noticed that he had no problem talking to her. It made her happy, and she could definitely use a little happy right now.

"Thanks, Hector," she said warmly, following him down the hall. The spicy aroma of steamed tamales hit her senses long before they made it to the break room. She smiled, Hector had been talking up these homemade tamales for a week now. She suspected that it had been his way of trying to distract her from the worries that had been plaguing her mind lately. She appreciated his efforts, grateful that Hector seemed to be extra sensitive to her moods. She could really use an understanding friend right now. Especially one who would not pry if she didn't want him to.

He led her to a table he'd already set up, complete with plastic silverware and bottles of water. Indicating that she should sit down, Hector stood while she took her seat.

"It is ready," he said and moved over to the counter to bring over a container wrapped with a dishtowel. Stephanie watched as steam burst out when he lifted the lid and he laughed when he saw her eyes grow wide.

"Hot!" he said as he carefully lifted the bundles wrapped in corn husks and set them on the waiting plates. Stephanie hesitated a moment, and then followed Hectors movements as he gently opened his tamale, blowing on it to cool the first bite that she took.

"You like it?" he asked with a smile. With her mouth still full, Stephanie nodded, adding a moan of appreciation for the delicious treat. That caused him to laugh again. This is why he loved sharing his lunch breaks with her so much.

Towards the end of their meal, Ella walked in with the chocolate cake they had not eaten last night. In spite of herself, Stephanie smiled as Ella sat down at the table. Without a word, Ella served the cake and all three of them started eating. Some of her angst forgotten, Stephanie was enjoying her time with her friends. Until Cal and Woody walked in.

Though they did not say anything to the trio already seated in the room. Stephanie heard their conversation and felt the fear come rushing back into her heart again. They were talking about the team that was in Arizona. Davron's body had been found. Ranger was determined to find the killers, and Stephanie knew he would not stop until he did. Fear raised so high in her chest, it nearly choked her. She could not stop the thoughts that had been lurking in her mind. What if the killers stopped him instead?

. .oOo.


	5. Chapter 5

. .oOo.

Chapter 5

The General got right to it. They actually had no time to lose. Since the FBI was not here yet, they still had a chance to find who Chef had been working with, and who killed him, without having to share all that they found if they deemed it necessary to keep it quiet.

"The time line is tight, you all know that," he said, and then, for the benefit of the Park Rangers, he went down the list of events as they knew them. Just as he had done with the team while they had been on the plane, not long before.

"Chef retired from the White House kitchens less than a year ago. At which time, his wife decided to leave him."

Heads were shaking. The guys were all thinking it again, Melissa had never been anyone's favorite person. When Chef married her, they tried to hope for the best, but as far as they were concerned, she had been the worst thing that had ever happened to him. She had never understood the man that she had married. Instead, she had set out to change him.

They had watched as their friend slowly withdrew from them. Melissa had been so jealous of his time, Ben had dropped off the radar completely. No hanging out, no texts, no phone calls. No more shooting the breeze with any of them. Even so, Ranger had kept tabs on him. People talk, and he listened. And it had made him sad for his friend.

Melissa had gotten her way. She had changed him. He was no longer the guy that they had known. But it had come at a high cost. Ben eventually withdrew from her too. It was easy to believe that his job at the White House had probably been Chef's way of keeping so busy that he never had to be with her. It seemed inevitable that something would have to give when he quit working. No one was surprised at all that their damaged relationship couldn't survive and it completely fell apart.

"Melissa Davron got her divorce and wasted no time in writing a book about Chef. Someone must have told her that she could make some money with it. Hell, they probably did all the work for her, the woman was not smart enough to pull this off on her own," Kinkaid said with a smirk.

Around the table, the men agreed, almost all of them nodding imperceptibly. In an unspoken pact, they knew that they would be finding whoever was behind Melissa's book, as well as the death of their friend. The general let a moment go by before he kept talking.

"Chef didn't know about the book, as far as we know," he said. "He had moved away from DC, out to Arizona. In another big coincidence," he said, looking over at Mitch and making the quotations gesture with his fingers. "By the time it was due to be released, he had decided to take the vacation he had always wanted, to explore the Grand Canyon. That was last week."

Pulling over the tray with the water picture and glasses, Kinkaid filled a glass and drank it down. Though he still tried not to show it, the dry climate, if not the elevation, was getting to him too. He cleared his throat and continued.

"We know that a room was rented in Ben Davron's name in Springdale, and he had plans to explore the south rim," he said. And answering the question before it was asked, he added. "A conspicuous number of travel brochures had been spread all around his house, and we have confirmed that a car was rented and travel plans had been made with his credit card. But he was never seen. No one can confirm that he was even the one who checked into the hotel room." He was at the end of what he thought the rangers had not known yet, but Kinkaid added the rest, just in case.

"His phone was found on the seat of his rental car, along with his wallet and the keys to the car. It was in the parking lot near the shuttle bus, over here, on the south rim," he said pointing to the opposite side of the map that Gielen had been using. "But that was not until he was reported missing by the hotel owners at the end of the time that he had rented the room for. There was no one even looking for him until Sunday."

Now he looked around the table, meeting each set of eyes one by one. His message was clear. He had not yet shared this next part of the story with his team. Kinkaid had avoided it, hadn't wanted to believe it. Oh, they knew that Chef had been walking too close to the line, but they did not know that he had crossed it.

This was so hard to say. The general had used the intel that Ranger had given him, and had filled in some blanks that he was now wishing that he didn't have to tell the team. He stood tall, and took a deep breath. All eyes were on him, they knew he had something big to say.

"Davron was stockpiling lots of money, mostly by hiding it behind bogus real estate deals in Europe. We are pretty sure that the money he had was not coming from legitimate sources, there was just too much of it. We have to find the the source as quick as we can," he concluded, returning the serious looks of his men He was counting on them to help him find the killers. But more than that, he needed to know who Chef had been working with. Something was not smelling right. If his hunch was correct, national security was at stake, and they had no time to waste.

. .oOo.

It was like a long, slow torture, but Stephanie spent every spare minute that she could find searching for more information about Ben Davron. News clips were starting to be shown in the western states, Arizona and Utah primarily, as the finding of a body in the Grand Canyon was local news there. But she was sure that his connection to the White house would bring the news closer to home any time now, as soon as the associated press got wind of it.

Without admitting it, Stephanie knew that by continuing this digging into the chef's life, she was trying to fill in as many blanks as she could in an effort to help Ranger with his investigation. She was doing this for a couple of reasons. First, and probably most important was the hope that the sooner they found what they needed, to solve Chef's murder, the sooner they could come back home. And secondly, the more she kept at it, the more she felt a part of what Ranger was doing, and she could feel like she was with him in this. That they were working together.

Because, now, after all these years, she was one hundred percent certain that this is all she wanted, to be with him in everything, to share a life together. These past two weeks without him here had given Stephanie the chance to seriously look at what she was willing to fight for. It had been the hardest time of her life, not being able to see him, talk to him, know what was on his mind.

With her heart so full of her love for him, Stephanie realized that Ranger had been opening up more than ever during the past few months. Amidst all of their flirting, and teasing, he had begun to let her into his world. He had shared his thoughts about so many things that she had never known before. With every new detail, every new revelation, they had grown closer to each other.

Though she had always considered herself an open book, since everyone seemed to know every little thing that was happening in her life, Stephanie knew that she had actually held back with Joe. He never knew the real Stephanie Plum. Never knew her hopes, her dreams, her secrets. He had never asked, and that was on him. But, if she was honest with herself, she had never told him either.

But with Ranger everything was different. He knew her in a way she had never expected. Some of her dreams she had actually told him, but there were many more things that he just instinctively understood about her. She loved that about him.

How could she not fight for the one and only person that had ever loved her, the real her. Ranger had become such an integral part of her, there were times when she did not know where she stopped and he began.

She laughed at herself a little bit. She was either being poetic or pathetic with all of these thoughts. But after the agony of feeling like she may have hurt him, or damaged her relationship with Ranger, Stephanie felt she was allowed to be dramatic, at least for a little while. The simple truth was, she just wanted to know how he was doing.

More than anything in the world, she wanted to be with him, talk to him, to know how all of this stuff about Chef was making him feel. In her mind, she would wrap her arms around him, hold him tight, to let him know that he was not alone. To let him know that she was so sorry that any of this was happening.

Forcing some of these thoughts back, Stephanie turned her attention back to the computer screen. Another search had ended, but it had not yielded any new information. Suddenly, frustration overcame her and she felt the urge to hit something, or to scream.

Instead, after taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, she methodically closed the last search and started a new one. Determined to find something that could help, anything that would give Ranger the answers he needed to be able to come back home to her.

. .oOo.

 _Washington DC. One week ago._

ABAN CAME UP here often. On the roof above his apartment, lush healthy plants helped to obscure the ugly view. He had planted a garden, in any pot or crate that he could find, until it nearly covered the small space up here. It was his way of keeping his own country with him. It had become so important to him, and one heartbreaking memory always replayed in his mind when he saw his thriving plants.

When he had left home, his mother had grabbed his hand. She'd had tears in her eyes, but she did not complain, did not beg him to stay, even though she knew that what he was doing was dangerous.

Actually, she did not say a single word, but Aban knew what she meant when she placed a fat envelope into his hand and patted it a few times before letting him go.

The seeds she had given him that day had been her way of reminding him of who he was and where he was from. The culture they raised him in was all they had to give. Aban knew that his mother did not agree with what he was becoming. But he knew that she would do all she could to preserve what he had been raised to be. She would be proud of the way the plants were growing, he mused. That was the one thing that he could give her. Even if she would never know.

Mahir opened the door to the third story roof and silently watched as his friend methodically pulled weeds and pruned some of his precious plants. He waited until Aban had finished watering, and had turned off the water, carefully coiling the hose and replacing it near the door.

Only then did he speak. In a low voice, so that he would not be heard by any other ears, he told Aban that their mission was over, they had no more time. They were expected to meet with the leaders any time now. Mahir waited for a response. He got none. Aban stood as still and silent as a statue. He did not look up, did not say a word. His actions spoke for him. Mahir knew that Aban would not be going. This could very well be the end of their relationship. So he turned around and went back down the stairs.

When Aban returned to the apartment, he knew he was alone. They did not have many things, but all that Mahir had brought was gone. As were the files and all of the equipment. His friend knew that Aban could not go back and talk to these people. They wanted what he did not, and would not, give them. This could only mean trouble for him, Mahir knew this, so he decided that he would take the meeting by himself.

Aban could only imagine what Mahir would find when he got there. They would not take 'no' for an answer, not from Mahir, and not from him. There was not much time, Aban knew they would be coming for him. He shouldn't have made them angry, it was not a smart move on his part, and he knew that he would pay for it.

But he almost didn't care. What could they really take from him that they had not already stolen away. Life as he knew it, as he had hoped it would be, didn't exist anymore. He was no longer welcome in his father's country, his father's home. That bridge had been burned the day he joined the rebel army and his father had called him a terrorist.

No matter how he had tried to explain that his job was only to gather information, there were no words he could say that would make his father agree with what he was doing. It would be safe, Aban had insisted, he would not even have to carry a gun. This was a good thing, he had said, it set him apart from the men known as the true terrorists, who killed to get their causes known.

But his father had turned on him and growled out a response. The words that let Aban know that his father had disowned him were words that he would never forget. Couldn't forget. And now that it was over, he wondered if this had all been worth the price that he had paid.

As he had told his father, Aban and Mahir had been living here in this country for one purpose only. They were to keep their eyes on one man. The man who sold secrets. It was important to keep this man safe, so that he could continue to supply them with the information that they wanted.

After three years, Aban had to admit that it bothered him that they never saw any of that information. It was not their position to do so, they had been told. An unsatisfactory answer, so Aban secretly kept a record of all that they were doing, all that they passed on to their leaders. He'd had no time to read any of it, but he felt it important to have a copy of it all in his possession.

Still, he was not satisfied that he had traded his life, given up his family, for what? Bits of overheard conversation between the guests in the White House? What intelligence could a cook be privy to? These questions had bothered him for a long time now, and many times he wished he could have a moment alone to see just what was in the files he had hidden away.

Aban sat in the corner of the room, cross-legged on the floor. Tears that he would not shed glistened in his eyes. His father had been right, he had become what he had vowed not to be. His mother's heart would be broken if she knew. That could never happen.

Aban knew what he had to do.

. .oOo.


	6. Chapter 6

. .oOo.

Chapter 6

The short flight out to Tuweep required both of the small Cessna planes that the rangers had access to. Kinkaid would have preferred to make his own arrangements in something more comfortable, but Mitch had insisted that these were the largest aircraft that would be permitted out there.

Ranger Wallace was there when the small planes landed on his makeshift airstrip. He drove his old battered pickup truck out to what served as a tarmac and waited as the men climbed out and stood near the planes. Only when the general was also standing with them, did he move forward and extend his hand.

Words were not spoken, there was an understanding between all of them. He was more than willing to do what he could to help in this investigation, having unwittingly become part of it himself. To say that Wallace was upset to have been treated the way he had in DC, was an understatement. Someone had an agenda and he was determined to find out what it was.

Initially, Wallace had considered the impromptu trip to Washington a complete waste of time. The committee, that had asked him to be there, did not even address the issues that he had been asked to come and talk about. They had run out of time, he was told.

One of the senators had come up to him afterward. Wallace thought that he seemed distracted, got the distinct feeling that he was being brushed off by this man. He did not appreciate that. When he was asked if he would he come back during their next session, the ranger just stared at the man in disbelief. Without hesitation, he said no.

Now, Wallace was angry. That someone took advantage of the fact he was not here, to sneak in and dump a body, really rubbed him the wrong way. He was ready to do whatever it took to find who had done this. He tossed the keys to the general. As arranged, Kinkaid got behind the wheel and half of the team piled into the old truck and headed to Wallace's house. It would serve as their command center, as it was the only place within miles that had access to satellite internet.

The other members of the team followed Wallace over to his small helicopter. The old model Bell Huey had been his project for a couple of years. It wasn't pretty, but it had seating for seven and it could get them to where they needed to go, and back.

The men who climbed in were dressed in their gear and were ready to hook to the lines that would lower them down into the dump site. It was the quickest and easiest way for them to get their own look at the place the body had been found. Whether there were any clues left to be found was anyone's guess, but they were equipped and motivated to find it, if it was there.

It was an even shorter flight this time, and less than twenty minutes later the men were on the ground. Ranger scoped the area. Though they had flown over many deep gorges with sharp cliffs on their way here, this spot in a long narrow canyon was fairly flat. Chunks of limestone in huge ragged boulders scattered the area. His hopes for finding anything that the Rangers had missed were slim. There would not be many clues, not when the body had just been dumped. But his instincts told him that there was a chance that there could be something here.

Behind one of the boulders, a large dark brown stain marked the spot where Chef had been found. From the amount of blood that had been left behind, it was evident that he had been disposed soon after being shot. He had bled out here.

It may have been possible that he had been killed in the plane and then thrown out. There were no splatter patterns on any of the surrounding rocks, supporting Gielens assertion that he had just been dumped here to lose the body.

All of the bits of evidence would have to be put together before they had a good idea of what had happened, but they still did not know who had done this or exactly why. There was also a possibility that they would never know all of the details. He had mixed feelings about that.

After examining the place his body had been, all of the men spread out over the small target area. Ranger watched them for a few moments. Chandler was taking photos of nearly every surface. Raj, AKA Shadow, was hunched over, looking like Sherlock Holmes, all he needed was a magnifying glass to complete the look. His guys were good. The best. So Ranger suppressed a smile.

The minutes passed as every inch was combed over, their hopes diminishing with each of those minutes. Opinions varied about what Chef had become, but no matter what he had done, they all agreed that he deserved better than this, and they did not want to let him down.

"What the ..!" Bowie cried out as the loose rocks slid underfoot and he lost his balance. Ranger spun around to see what had happened. Chandler quickly aimed and took a shot to document the moment. Not a word was said now, but they would have fun teasing him about his graceful moves later.

The flash blinked a few times before the shutter clicked, and for a split instant, it reflected off of something behind Bowie. "Don't move!" Ranger said moving forward, keeping his eyes on the place he'd seen a quick glint. Carefully he moved the rocks around, the other guys came closer, watching, waiting.

Finally, Ranger stopped, his fingers had sifted through the disturbed rocks and now he picked up something small. Slowly he stood and held it up. Everyone recognized it immediately. They all still wore their own dogtags too. Ranger rubbed the dirt away to reveal the engraved letters, holding his breath to see what name he would find.

"It's Chef's," he said solemnly. Heads bowed. It was not entirely unexpected, but the body had already been identified, so everyone was disappointed they hadn't found something more useful to their investigation. Most of them turned away, on the search again.

Bowie stood and was brushing the dirt from his pants, the same reddish gray dirt that clung to the black rubber silencers and dusted the metal tag in Ranger's hand. "Sorry man," he said with a shrug.

"Wait a sec," Ranger said, turning the piece of metal over in his hands several times. "There is something odd written here."

He handed it to Bowie, pointing to the line below the name. "That's not a social," he said. "And look at what it says for blood type and religious preference. Bowie held the small tag up in the sun, squinting at the letters punched into the metal.

He nodded slowly, Ranger was right, the standard information that was on all of their tags had been replaced with something else, all while keeping the same look as a regular tag. One by one the others noticed what was going on and came back over to see. A small discussion started. Ranger listened silently, but he had his own ideas about what it could mean.

And now he was thinking about the person who had already filled in some very important details about Chef. With this information and her skills, Ranger knew that she could give him some more answers now. He needed to talk to Stephanie.

Again, with regret, he realized that his communication with her during the past few days had been sorely lacking. All that was happening couldn't have come at a worse time. His thoughts took him back to the night at Pino's. They'd spent hours with each other and had had such a great time.

Sure, that evening had included the rest of the group, but Stephanie had been sitting so close to him that could feel the electricity that coursed through him every time their knees accidentally bumped, or when she would briefly touch his arm, his hand, his shoulder as they laughed and told stories. She didn't know what she did to him. That night had confirmed his feelings, he was ready. Ready to tell her that he needed her in his life. Always.

This was not something that he had rushed into, far from it. It's just that he had finally come to the realization that his life was so incomplete, worthless without her in it. He had endured all of her 'on' periods with the cop, and now that they were 'off' again, permanently this time, he knew he had to let her know how he felt. Unfortunately, he was just no good at this sharing thing and he had been agonizing over how he could change that part of himself.

And then she had gone and surprised him. With a fierceness that he had not seen before, she had tried to protect him from the hurt she knew he would feel about Chef. A profound warmth filled his chest when he remembered how reluctant she had been to share the information that she had found. She didn't want to be the one who brought it to his attention, but at the same time, she had respected the fact that he needed to know about his friend.

She was such an enigma in his mind. To most, she seemed to be bumbling through her life. They did not see that she had an inner strength that kept her going even in the worst of conditions. They couldn't understand her craving to be herself, even if it was so far out of the Burg's accepted 'norms'. How they could not admire her courage and her grit, he just didn't know. More than anything, he wanted her to know that he loved all of these things about her.

Yes, he needed to talk to her, soon. But right now, he needed her help again. With her intuition and tenacity, she was the one person that he could count on to find the answers that he needed. He just hoped that she was not too upset with him. The past weeks had not helped at all with his hopes to connect with her. He was still upset that he had missed her again before leaving to come here. Someday soon, he needed to make that up to her.

Overhead the helicopter came back into view. Their time was up. Dirt billowed up in a cloud all around them as the ropes were dropped from either side of the chopper. Two by two, the guys hooked on to have the winches pull them up. With everyone back on board, Wallace pointed the nose toward home. Nothing more was left for them here.

. .oOo.

At Ranger Wallace's place, Tank and the rest of the team set up what they would refer to as the home base for the day. It was a surprisingly spacious house with vaulted ceilings and picture windows that took in the view of the red rock canyons. At some point each of the men probably looked out and appreciated the sight, but most of their attention had been focused on their own laptops.

Eric, or "Red" as he was known to the men in the team, sat with his back to the stone wall that was part of an enormous fireplace. Now that he was back with the guys, he had to wonder, again, how his parents had named a child with red hair, Eric. Of course, as a member of the elite team, it had been more than a nickname, it was his moniker, an honor, if he let himself go that far.

With an ease that few of the others had, Red was sifting through pages of media coverage, extracting only what he wanted. These items were transferred into a separate file and periodically sent over to Tank whose job it was to keep all of the results in one place.

On the opposite side of the room Cort was frowning at his screen. While he was in the military files that had been kept on Chef, Cort McKay, Mac, as he was still going by these days, had decided to cross reference all of the accounts that were listed under Benjamin Rivers Davron. Detailed information was listed under performance, payroll, education, and benefits, which included complete medical and life insurance.

The benefits file is what now held Mac's attention. Melissa had been listed as a dependent and also a beneficiary up until a year ago. After the divorce, that had changed. Then, just three months ago, it had been changed again. Everything was back in Melissa's name.

Not only did she have her medical insurance reinstated, but the life insurance policy once again named her as the sole beneficiary. And the amount of the policy had been doubled. Melissa Davron now stood to receive a million dollars from that policy.

Mac sat back in his chair, still glaring at the screen. Kinkaid was right, the Melissa that they knew was plenty greedy, and her heart was cold, but she was definitely not smart enough to figure out how to cheat the US Army. The question that he was asking now was, who was helping her? And why?

Tank was constantly reviewing and organizing the information being sent to him. A few times, he shook his head at what he was reading, but suddenly his head popped up and he looked around until his eyes met Mac's. With a slight nod, Mac agreed with him. Ranger was going to be very interested to see this.

. .oOo.

 _In Washington DC, two days ago._

Sarah worked a later shift than usual tonight. A special event at the White House that would benefit them both. Vasya waited patiently for her call. He stared out of the window of his penthouse apartment, holding his favorite vodka in his hand. The view from here was spectacular. He was going to miss it.

Turning away, he took a drink, allowing the nearly frozen liquid to slide down his throat. His nerves were on edge. For close to a decade he had been playing this game, but he was going to be gone soon. That fact was going to come as quite a surprise to many people. He found it funny all of a sudden, and he laughed.

He was very popular here in DC. At least the person he was pretending to be was. Many people wanted to be seen with such a wildly successful entrepreneur, and he did his best to accommodate as many as he could. It was all part of his plan. A man in his position had to be careful.

A shiver, that had nothing to do with his frozen drink, shuddered up his spine. Spies, like he was, needed to be creative. He had chosen this cover for a reason. He wanted to hide in plain sight, figuring that it would make it harder to accidentally disappear one day, as so many of his associates were prone to do.

These were not pleasant thoughts, but it was not exactly a pleasant business that he was in. He prided himself in maintaining control at all times. Not an easy thing to do in his line of work. And that was the number one reason that he was ready to retire now, while he was still on top.

If he was lucky, he could disappear to start his new life without any interference. He had been very good at what he did, he hoped they would remember that. They owed him this chance to walk away. There had only been one time when he let them down. Vasya thought of that often, the only mar on his record still bothered him, and it had not been his fault.

A year ago, the chef had just disappeared one day, leaving him to scramble to get a new contact in the White House. Looking back, Vasya knew that the only mistake he had made was assuming that nothing would interrupt his arrangement with the chef. Things had been going so well, smooth and flawless. It had been a pleasure to watch the man work. He was a charmer, everyone he met fell under his spell.

Vasya had scored an invitation at the White House years ago. It had impressed him to see the man, the chef, come out and mingle with the guests. He was a star, they all wanted to meet the man behind the magnificent food. He was attentive, hovering as if to assure that everyone was enjoying the dinner, the dessert, the wine. And most importantly, Vasya had noticed that they had wanted him there.

No one knew that he was listening, recording them. The man was a genius, working the room and gathering information that he could sell to the highest bidder. For so long, that highest bidder had been Vasya. He had paid Davron well for the type of secrets that were told between the heads of state who took care of their business over a tender Beef Wellington, or a decadent Crème Brulee. Wine, served by the chef himself, flowed with the meal, the perfect accompaniment to their evening. And the perfect way to loosen tongues.

One day the chef had been there, business as usual, then the next he was gone. Not my fault, Vasya repeated in his mind. He still wondered what had happened to the man who had always surprised him with the detailed information that he seemed to be able to find.

Losing him as a contact could have been a big disaster. It could have ruined him, but Vasya had come through, he had found Sarah. As a wine steward, hired to help the new chef, she had filled his needs satisfactorily. The intel his superiors needed had been uncovered and delivered and life moved on. Still, he was uneasy about his future. Maybe it would be prudent to do a disappearing act of his own. Sarah was able to do the job, but she lacked the finesse and charisma that the chef had had. It could be just a matter of time before she was no longer effective. Yes, he decided, it was definetely time to leave.

When Vasya Kostenka made his exit, he would no longer exist. He had mixed feelings about that, but he had enough money now to buy the life he wanted. It would be a secret life this time, no adoring fans.

Vasya sank down into the closest chair. Carefully placing his glass on the marble coaster sitting atop the highly polished wood of the coffee table, he let his mind play out what that scenario would look like. A smile crept to his lips at the thought.

Suddenly his phone vibrated in his pocket. "Sarah" he muttered as he looked at the screen.

"Rendezvous." was all the message said. That was all he needed. Vasya stood and grabbed his keys and slipped his ice encased bottle of vodka into the silver ice bucket sitting on the counter. This would be one of the last times he would see Sarah. He might as well make it good.

. .oOo.


	7. Chapter 7

. .oOo.

Chapter 7

The message she received late that afternoon was unexpected. Stephanie had actually been leaving for the day, and had even made her way to the elevator before it arrived. She was exhausted. Between her searches for Rodriguez and all of the emotionally draining extra work she was trying to do to help Ranger, every minute of her day had been jam packed. The only break she'd had was at lunch.

With her phone in hand, ready to make a call, Stephanie was startled to get a message notification. She held it up and stared at the words on the screen. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw who it was from. Elation over seeing his name there quickly turned to panic. She was scared to know what Ranger had to say to her after all this time.

With a death grip on her phone, Stephanie took a deep breath before opening the message. Ranger was a man of few words, and, of course, his texts were no exception. 'Please check search files. Instructions included. Thanks. R'

Short and sweet. With a quick text of her own, she let him know she was on it. Stephanie didn't give her evening plans a second thought. Ranger needed her help so she hurried back to her desk and brought up the search programs again.

At first Stephanie wasn't sure if she should be worried about what was in that file. It was enough for her to know that Ranger had asked for her help. Within minutes, she had it open in front of her. Her breath hitched, it was file BD845562, and she immediately understood. This was the ID number that had been given to the file she had opened about Ben Davron. The one that had started all of the trouble to begin with.

After reading the instructions, Stephanie sat back and closed her eyes. Her shift may have been over, but she knew that she was not going anywhere for a long time. She sucked in a deep breath before turning her attention back to the screen.

Ranger wanted her to keep digging into his friends life. Of course she would do it, that was not the question, it's what had she been doing all along anyway. But for a brief moment, she remembered the reaction that she thought she had seen in him when she'd found information before, what would it be like when she uncovered more of Chef's secrets?

Pushing all of her worries aside, she looked closely at the words on the screen. Ranger had sent her what looked like account numbers, and she was pretty sure that she knew what they were for. The rest of his clues confirmed it. It was a bit more complicated than her other searches on Davron had been, but with this additional, specific data, Stephanie was able to pull up everything that she was looking for.

The picture that all of this new intel painted was not good. In fact, the numbers that she was looking at told her that this man had been playing with the big boys for a long time. But the most disturbing thing that she had discovered was that he had been playing with so many of them. Now if she could figure out who they all were, she would really have some solid answers for Ranger.

Just as she would do with any of her searches, Stephanie followed the steps that Rodriguez had taught her. 'Tricks of the trade', he had told her, and she knew that they worked. She also knew that it was not going to be easy, but she had to follow the accounts as far as she could to see where they came from. Every trick, every skill that she had learned was put into play as she traced the money back to their origins. In the end, code names were all that she came up with. Stephanie had wanted more, but she knew she was actually lucky to have gotten this deep.

Three hours after getting his text, Stephanie got out her phone and sent another short text of her own to Ranger. "Answers in file." It was the safest and quickest way to let him know what she had uncovered. Her phone was still in her hand when it buzzed again.

"Thanks."

She smiled and set the phone down on the desk. Stephanie knew that she had done as much as she could for now, but still she felt reluctant to leave. This contact with Ranger, as brief as it had been, had sent her reeling again. This time it felt so much better. Just the idea that he was still talking to her, still needed her, filled her chest with a calm that she had not felt in weeks. She would sit here and enjoy that feeling for just a little bit longer.

. .oOo.

Aban carefully snuck into the small room, trying to contain the nervous energy that pulsed through his body. He was not supposed to be here. After coming for him days ago, he had been told to abandon this place, never to return. Since then he had been in hiding, but now there was something he needed from here. Everything that he had worked so hard to compile was still here and he could not leave it behind.

It was not easy to be back here. In his chest his heart tightened. The plants on the roof above him were probably wilted and dying now. He could do nothing about that, no matter how it hurt him to leave them behind. Maybe it was symbolic. Aban could not help but let that thought creep into his mind again. It was morbid, but he did not kid himself, he knew that his days were numbered.

Again, he made himself look back at the mess he had made of his life. All of the days and nights that they had spent babysitting passing along information was over for now Aban. This assignment had kept them busy for years, but what had they truly gained? What had it all been for?

That it had come to this was not a surprise. Aban had seen a lot of what was happening, but even he was unprepared when they were asked to find the chef. They had not worked with him for nearly a year, there had been other people to watch since then, and Aban could see no reason why they would want Davron now. Mahir insisted that it was not for them to understand their orders, they just needed to do what was required of them, his devotion to the cause never allowing him to question any of the things they had done.

Aban had never come to that point. As hard as he had tried to silence it, his father's voice was still in his head, asking him who were these people to whom he had pledged such loyalty. The answer to that question had never satisfied him. Not in all the years he had given to them.

Now he would never be able to forget what these people had done. What they had asked of him. Aban felt the stab of guilt deep in his heart. It was his fault, they had done what they had been ordered to do. Mahir had never had the skills, even if he had had the desire. It had been Aban who had found the man, the chef. Now he had to live with what had followed. But, for Aban, he could not be party to this any longer. It was over, his part in this was done. Truly seeing them for who and what they were would keep him running for the rest of his life, no matter how long, or short that turned out to be.

Now it was down to the one and only thing that he needed to see through before he died. All that Aban did, all that he had ever done since joining this group, had been recorded. Mahir knew that it had, of course he did, Aban had made sure he would. Had shown him the records, many times. From the beginning this had been part of the plan that Aban hoped he would never have to use. But his own sense of self preservation had demanded that he have a way to show the world what was happening.

When he had obeyed the instructions to leave, Mahir had dutifully packed up all of it. Just as they had told him to. It was as it had to be. Mahir had to think that all of the documentation had been safely removed. It was the only way he would be safe from the monsters that they had answered to for so long.

Poor Mahir, Aban thought. He was so loyal, so trusting. The men who had recruited him had loved that about him. Puffing him up with accolades, they had controlled him with promises of future rewards, and that had been enough for him. Such a simple mind. But this kind of blind following was so dangerous that it made Mahir dangerous. Aban was pained to have seen this about his friend.

Just as so many others like him, Mahir had been too easily controlled. He would do whatever he was told, actually believing in the stories that he had been fed. The lies. He could no longer think for himself.

No, that was the burden that only Aban seemed to be suffering from. The hardest part was that he had believed once. Enough to leave his family, his home. But they had never stopped the words in his head, the ones that kept him true to himself.

His was not to be the easy path, however, he understood that now. Aban could not accept all that he was told, he had to seek out his own confirmation, validation. Some things just did not feel right. If he was to justify the price he had paid, all that he had lost in his desire to belong to the cause, he had to know for himself. To have the surety that what they were asked to do would truly fill the purpose he believed was his.

What he had promised his father had turned out to be a lie too. No, he had not carried a gun. But Aban had been there when the chef had been killed. The memory of that moment would never leave him. There in the plane, the chef was huddled in a bruised and battered heap, having already been beaten by the monsters he had come to hate so deeply. Aban had seen the gun, a split second before the shot rang out and he was covered in another man's blood.

Nothing he had ever seen had been that terrible. And then Aban, himself, was given the order. He was horrified at the thought that he had been expected to push the man's body out of the plane. He had not done it, but that was not noticed. The body had fallen. It had been Mahir who had been strong enough to push it himself.

Aban had been left to watch it falling through the air. To hear, to actually feel, the thud of it hitting the ground. He nearly stopped breathing as he relived those horrible moments. He felt that just by being there, he had become a killer, just like they were. A man's blood was, literally, on his hands. They had turned him into the one thing he had vowed he would never be. He would never forgive them for that. It had all changed in that moment. Aban was ready to do what he had to.

He knelt now, prying up a loose floor board, only enough to reach in and grab the worn envelope and a small zip drive that he had hidden there. Yes, he had recorded everything that they had done, secretly keeping a copy for himself. And all Aban had to do now was get that information into the right hands.

. .oOo.

With Wallace's permission, the team remained camped out in his house all through the evening and into the night as they followed the clues that they were finding. He worked in his kitchen, keeping the men supplied with water and food. As he pulled biscuits out of the oven and served up steaming bowls of stew, Wallace took a good look around.

Being out here mostly on his own had not given him much of a chance to be part of anything significant in a very long time. He missed that. Sure, there were the occasional visitors that needed help, the weekly meetings with the other rangers, the Monthly trips to get supplies. But for the most part, he had lived as a hermit, connected to the rest of the world only through the internet. It felt good, helping these men in their work.

Most of the guys had already grabbed their food, but Ranger and Tank were still hunched over a small screen, digging into their latest mystery. Why was Chef living in a remote cabin in Arizona when he had luxurious properties in places like Liechtenstein?

Ranger knew that it had seemed odd to Stephanie too. So she had done the logical thing and used her search programs to build his personal history. As hard as she tried, she couldn't find anything or anyone to tie him to the tiny country tucked in between Austria and Switzerland.

As Ranger followed her train of thought, he nodded, a smile almost showing itself. Chef had no family there, not even remote ancestry from anywhere near it. There was no known evidence of his ever traveling there. Of course, Ranger mused, she had no way of knowing that Liechtenstein was probably one of the only countries that Chef had never actually been to. As Rangers, they had been all around the world.

So why did he own anything there? Stephanie was incredibly tenacious when it came to finding answers. Ranger had always admired the way she connected the dots. It had not taken her long to figure out that unlike the Cayman Islands, that everyone seems to know about, Liechtenstein was a relatively unknown haven for things like large family trusts. But Ben Davron was not from one of those wealthy families with trusts and large inheritances. Her research had shown that already, so Stephanie's discovery had opened up many more questions than it had answered for her.

Until she discovered that as it turns out, that small country is another perfect place to hide money. Especially when it looked like legitimate real estate transactions had taken place. In Chef's case, multiple properties had been purchased. At least on paper.

On the night that she had shared what she had found on Chef, Stephanie had only been able to speculate on how she thought he had been buying up real estate in Europe. Ranger knew she had hated to say it out loud, but while he got royalty checks from the cookbook he had been featured in, and his salary of 85K a year was impressive, it certainly was not enough to allow him to purchase 2.6 million dollars worth of property in Liechtenstein. Her cheeks had tinged with pink and she had looked away when she asked if there was any way that he could have become involved with dealing drugs.

Ranger remembered being shocked at the idea. Of course not, he had thought. The Chef that he had known was not like that. But he was at a loss, and he didn't know what to say, so he had not said anything at all. He thought that he would have time to talk to Chef, to get the answers himself. It had not worked out that way.

Tank nudged Ranger with his elbow. "Steph's codes have been tracked down," he said. After running their intel through Kinkaid's connections, the rest of the picture was coming through. And it wasn't pretty. Tank growled, low and mean. He did not like any of this.

Ranger looked at the computer, his stomach clenched in anger, the shock he had felt over Stephanie's drug theory was nothing to what he was feeling now. Oh no, this was worse. So much worse than he had let himself even imagine. It turned out that being a drug lord would have been a nice thing to accuse Chef of. As the page, that Tank was now showing him indicated, the people who had funneled money into Ben Davron's accounts were connected to terrorist networks from all over the world.

Tank sat back heavily, he was shaking his head. Ranger too, backed away from the laptop, even though he couldn't tear his eyes away from it. How could this be true? He didn't want to believe it. But how else could he explain away all of the evidence in front of them. Chef had turned traitor.

The worst scenario, the one they had never let themselves imagine, was the answer to what he had become. Both Tank and Ranger mourned for their friend, but at the same time, anger simmered under the surface. Apparently their feelings were not as well hidden as they may have thought. Everyone in the room seemed to sense the change in them. Silently, they started migrating over to the couch, waiting until Ranger was ready to fill them in on what had been discovered.

Even Wallace paused what he was doing in the kitchen. Tense, quiet moments were finally broken when Ranger stood and pushed his hand through his hair. He looked at everyone one by one, Kinkaid last of all. Then he took a deep breath and finally started to speak.

. .oOo.


	8. Chapter 8

. .oOo.

Chapter 8

Sitting in the gathering shadows, Stephanie was still enjoying the glow of her earlier connection with Ranger. Though it had only been through a few texts, a warmth had spread through her, and it was a feeling that she did not want to let go of. Closing her eyes, she conjured up images of his smile. Remembering the way he had been, hanging out at Pino's.

That night had felt like a turning point for both of them, another step forward toward the relationship that they seemed to have been avoiding for so long. A smile of her own spread across her face. She could not forget the way he had kept so close to her all night. Surreptitiously looking at her, touching her.

Nothing had ever felt so right. After all of these years of circling each other, Stephanie knew that the time had finally come for them to be together. Over the past several months, she had let herself believe that.

But it was more than a hope or a dream, she had changed everything about her life that had ever prevented their relationship from happening. And though he was not aware that she knew, so had Ranger. Among other things, she had, only recently, seen copies of the paperwork that he had put in to end his part in the government contracts held by RangeMan Inc.

As she, once again, contemplated the deep significance of that particular action, Stephanie's phone buzzed. She snatched it up quickly and was disappointed to see that it was not Ranger. In the back of her mind, she knew it wouldn't be, but the hope that it could be had been was there all the same. Trying to keep that letdown feeling out of her voice, she answered the call.

"Hey Mar, whats up?" she said as cheerfully as she could. There was a long pause on the other end of the line. If Stephanie had realized that it was after ten o'clock already, she would have been alarmed. Since, at this late hour, she knew that MaryLou would usually only be calling if there was something wrong. And, in that case, Stephanie would have been panicking for her. As it was, Stephanie was on alert anyway, as soon as her friend started talking.

"Did you see the news?" MaryLou finally said. "That chef, the one you told me about, did you know that he's dead?" she asked. Before Stephanie could answer, MaryLou started rambling, her words pouring out with any end in sight.

Stephanie knew MaryLou did that when she was nervous or upset, and right now she sounded both. Listening carefully, Stephanie was ready to be worried too, how much did her friend know?

"Lenny had the news on, and after finally getting the kids in bed, I walked in to see the report that said the white house chef's body had been found in the Grand Canyon. I wonder if he fell off of a cliff or something, they didn't say. And fortunately, they didn't show any pictures, I always think that they show way too much on the news, so at least we can all be glad that they exercised some restraint this time. You know I ordered one of those cookbooks, the reviews looked so good, and I knew that you were going to get one so I couldn't resist either. It came today. Oh Steph, it's so awful to know that he's dead." Finally she had to take a breath, so Stephanie spoke up quickly, happy to feel a bit of relief from the earlier worries.

"Yeah, I just found out," she said. "I don't know how it happened." Or why, she thought, but she wasn't going to share any of her speculations, it was very possible that she would never talk about what she knew about Chef Ben. Especially not to MaryLou, it would only be so upsetting to her. Besides, Stephanie reasoned, it was going to be hard enough on her friend to use the new cookbook. She always got so emotional over things like this.

After she ended the call. Stephanie stood to leave. No point in hanging around any longer, she might as well head home. Still, she hoped that she would hear from Ranger again soon. Slowly, she made her way down the hall. Holding the phone in her hand, she willed it to ring. But it didn't.

She'd known it wouldn't.

. .oOo.

 _Arizona, a year ago._

Looking over his shoulder, again, Ben Davron hurried back to the small cabin that he would be calling home from now on. He just wished that he could let himself relax. Ever since that unpleasant incident last week, he had not been able to shake the feeling that he was being watched. But that was crazy, no one knew where he was. And there was no way anyone could have followed him here. With a feeling of pride that he would never lose, he knew that he still had enough of his ranger skills to sneak away from prying eyes.

His early morning run usually helped to clear his head, but he still hadn't been able to shake the terror that had taken residence in his chest. He tried to tell himself that he was just being paranoid, but the feeling persisted. His fingers quickly punched in the numbers of his newly installed key pad, and he pushed the door open, just as soon as he heard the click that disengaged the lock, and slipped inside.

Just as quickly, he reprogrammed it as soon as he was inside, and just to be sure, he flipped the dead bolt and secured the other three locks that he'd placed on the door the moment he had moved in. His hand rested on the wall next to the last lock and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against the door.

The difficulty he was having catching his breath could have been caused by the rigorous pace he'd kept up during his run, but he knew better than that. He was scared, pure and simple. A feeling that had become all too familiar to him during these past few years.

Ben pushed back from the door and headed into the bathroom. A hot shower would wash away the dirt from the trail, and would soothe his muscles, but it would do nothing to ease the guilt that he was feeling. That was something that he would live with for the rest of his life.

Maybe he should have thought about that. No, he answered, his immediate response always was that he'd had no choice. He had been helpless, a feeling that reduced him to doing things he would never have ever considered otherwise

Russians, Syrians, Nigerians, Iranians, they were all on the top of his list of people who might want him dead. And now he had to accept that it was his own fault. He knew it was.

Hot water pounded his shoulders and back. He stood motionless as the images of his extracurricular job filled his mind. He had never intended to do any of this. How had everything gotten so out of hand?

Impatient with himself, Davron turned the water off and got out of the shower. Images of Melissa came to his mind as he dried off and found some clothes to slip into. She had been everything to him, from the moment he had met her. He shook his head, he had given up everything for her. Everything, he thought, a tremor of anger shaking his body.

Making his way to the kitchen he forced himself to eat, but he was only going through the motions. Food no longer held any interest for him. He had given up more than just his job when he left. He wanted to erase the past, undo all of the stupid and reckless decisions that he'd made. For her, Ben reminded himself. All of it had been for her.

It always came back to that, and now she had thrown him away like a piece of garbage. That had really hurt. Though he tried to tell himself that it was not her fault, he was having a hard time believing it. Still, it was true that he had never told her about the threats. That was something that he'd kept to himself partly because he didn't want to scare her, and partly because of his ego that did not want to admit that he felt powerless to stop what was happening.

He would have told her. The moment he had been handed the divorce papers he had been tempted to, wondering if it would change things if she knew. He entertained those thoughts for weeks before deciding to disappear, but he knew the answer, he'd known it all along. He had just loved her so much he had not wanted to see the truth.

The realization that, no matter how hard he tried, he would never have been able to do enough to satisfy her, still hit him hard. But worse than that was finally understanding that she had never loved him. Melissa had been incapable of love. How had it taken him so long to finally let that sink into his head. Nothing that he could do, nothing he had ever done could change that one fact.

Now he was here in his self-imposed exile, hoping that he could figure out what to do next. All the money in the world could not help him now. His life meant nothing to the people who had been using him for years now. No matter how they had built him up, flattering him into believing that he was the most important, and the most indispensable part of their plans to save the world. What kind of fool believes that kind of talk from the people who, at the same time, are threatening him, promising to end his wife's life if he does not do what they want?

A desperate one, he answered. And he had been desperate. Ben had felt so alone, with no one to turn to. To please Melissa, he had willingly shut out his friends and family, all so that he could shower all of his attention on her, prove to her how much he loved her.

It had been what she wanted. But now it had left him with nothing when she, not so gently, invited him completely out of her life. Less than nothing, since he had destroyed his life to save hers.

Guilt, his close companion for the past three years, was tormenting him again. By leaving, disappearing without a trace, he had endangered Melissa's life, and no matter what he thought of her now, it was against his nature to put another human being in harms way. But isn't that exactly what he had done when he'd left?

It had come down to this one question; would he choose his life over hers? The answer was a hard one to take for a man trained to safe lives. No one would understand the struggle he had gone through before he had chosen his own life, fully expecting that these monsters he had been working for would follow through on their promise to kill her if he did not give them the information that they wanted.

What kind of man had he turned into? He had been asking himself that question for years now. And all during that time he had pushed away the very people that he had needed to help him find a way out of his hell. He wished that Ranger was here now. No matter what kind of trouble they had ever gotten into, Ranger had always found a way out. He could really use that right now. But if he tried to reach out to him, his friend, his mentor, could end up being in danger too.

He had already risked one life, he couldn't put another one in jeopardy. All he could do is leave things the way they were. Ranger would send his periodic e-mails to the same address he'd always had. There would be no response. Even though Ben read each and every one, he had never replied. But that never stopped Ranger from reaching out to him. A fact that added to the guilt that Ben felt.

Papers were scattered all over the kitchen table. Ben pushed his plate aside and picked up the one on top of the pile. An unfinished letter to the one person who had always had his back, the one person that he had never wanted to let down. But he had. Even if Ranger didn't know it yet, Ben knew that he had not only betrayed his country by sharing its secrets. He had also betrayed the first person who had ever believed in him.

All he could do is stare at the words on the paper. Words that he knew would never be able to explain what he had done, what he had become. He could not feel worse, and with a defeated sigh he dropped the page back onto the table. He knew he would never send it anyway.

How did you tell your mentor, your friend that, even though you felt forced into it, you had sold your integrity for a few dollars. Almost laughing at himself, he corrected that last figure. Millions of dollars had come his way, but their worth was nothing, not compared to what he had lost in return.

At least Melissa would never get her hands on any of it. He had seen to that. Immediately after seeing those stupid divorce papers. Scraping his chair across the floor, Ben impatiently left the unfinished letters behind and made his way to the far side of the room where he stopped in front of the fireplace. The coals were dying, so he busied himself with building up the fire again. He had needed the warmth when the sun went down. Nights got cold up here in the desert mountains. But right now, though it was not necessary, it was just a comforting thing to do.

The motions were automatic, mindless, but soon a fire blazed and Ben sat back on his heels staring at the glow. Why couldn't he quiet the voices in his head? For so long he had only listened her voice in there. Melissa had occupied every part of him. He had loved that, once. Now it left him hollow, and the other voices echoed in the emptiness, asking him the questions that he had been trying to avoid. Because there were no good answers.

. .oOo.

No one had looked at a clock in a long time, or they would be aware that it was approaching morning and it was nearly time for the sun to rise over in the east end of the canyon. Ranger and the rest of the team were tireless and relentless in their efforts to uncover what had happened to their teammate.

"It's time to go over what we have found out about Chef." Ranger was saying. On the wall next to a map identical to the one in the Operations building, a couple of poster boards had been hung to serve as a whiteboard. With a marker in hand, he turned and wrote one word at a time discussing each in turn.

It was easy now, at this point, to separate the clues they had discussed and place them in two categories accordingly. Personal, involving Melissa, and business, that had to do with both his career as a chef, and the connection with terrorist groups.

Once they were done, the picture started taking shape. The men were all silent as they digested the information and came to their conclusions.

Standing to the side, General Kinkaid listened intently. The men were right to concentrate on what had happened to Chef. His own initial research supported the conclusion that they had come to. He would let them follow the clues about Ben. In his own mind however, he was fitting more of the pieces together and he was not liking what he was seeing.

The book fiasco with Melissa Davron, was a vendetta, he was sure of it now. But by whom? As the men had already stated, Melissa may have been stupid, or greedy enough to go along with it, but she was not the one who had come up with the plan to write it. She probably didn't even know enough about it to know who it could hurt.

He listened to the discussion, but his mind would not stop its own line of questioning. It could be anyone, he thought. God knows that he had made enough enemies along the way. Somehow he had to narrow it down to who it was that hated him enough to expose him, and his best team. Who would be willing to destroy Chef while they were at it? While he desperately went through names, eliminating some, highlighting others, the guys continued to identify and label all of the facts that they had found.

Suddenly, the crackling static from Wallace's ancient CB radio startled everyone in the room. It took only a moment for the Ranger to reach the equipment. All of the men watched as he started adjusting a few knobs to narrow down the frequency of the incoming message.

"Wallace, sorry it's so early man, but you should check your email for the information that just came in from the PD in Arizona. Tell Kinkaid that the feds are heading over here later today. Thought he might want to know." More squawking and static filled the silence in the room before they heard the parting words, "Gielen out"

It was not until that moment that a few of the guys looked at their watches. It was 0505 in the morning, they had been working through the night. Their attention was drawn back to the ranger as he turned on his computer. As expected, Kinkaid, Ranger and Tank moved over to stand behind Wallace.

"The blood that was found at the Arizona residence of Ben Davron has been tested and lab results are back," Wallace said, reading excerpts from the report that Gielen had sent him. "More than one type was detected, but only Davron's has been positively identified," he added. "Someone else may have been hit at the same time."

In the silence that followed that statement, puzzlement and worry could be felt. As of yet, there was no known connection of anyone who might have been with Chef. As they contemplated whose blood might be there with his, a shaft of light streamed in through the tall windows, reflecting brilliantly around the room.

Everyone turned to watch as the sun began rising slowly above the red cliffs. "My favorite time of day," Wallace quietly spoke. Heads nodded in agreement. None of them had expected to see a sight such as this. They would never forget it.

. .oOo.

Mitch Gielen replaced his phone in its cradle and slumped back into his chair. He had been on the phones since he got here this morning, fielding calls from the Police Department in Arizona, the FBI, and from General Kinkaid. His head was starting to pound and he could use a cup of hot, black coffee to keep him going.

Just before he pushed himself out of his chair to go find some, the wafting scent of java reached his nose, and he looked up in the direction it was coming from. There was Nia, his angel of mercy holding out a steaming mug for him.

"Thought you could use a break about now," Nia said with a kind smile.

"Oh, yes!" Mitch exclaimed as he reached out to take the mug from her hands. "You are my lifesaver again, don't rightly know what I'm going to do without you," he said.

Nia laughed and winked at him before she turned to leave. She wasn't ready to think about that at the moment. Instead she got back to work. She had come in to work the early shift with him today, and it had not slowed down since the moment they had arrived.

As she reached her desk, she took a moment to look around the cramped office. It would only be another week or so before her summer experiment would be over and she would have to go home.

Again, she didn't want to think about that, so she pulled her chair out and sat down and tackled the mountain of paperwork on the desk. Being a ranger, it turned out, was as much about red tape and forms as it was about the park itself. There was always something that needed to be done, and truly she was grateful for the experiences that she had had here.

"Oh, Nia," Mitch called from his office. "I need some help, we've got a job to do."

Nia stood and walked to the door of his office and looked in at Mitch who still had his coffee cup in his hands. He looked up at her and laughed out loud when she held out the coffee pot and moved forward to refill the mug.

"You know me too well." he said, taking a sip and setting the mug on his desk. "Sit," he said motioning to the chair opposite his.

"So," Nia said, "What is this job?"

That was just like her, ready and willing to do anything that needed to be done around here. Mitch knew that he was right to wonder what he was going to do when she went back to her home and her new assignment on the east coast. But he did not want to think of that, not yet.

"Do you remember the Boy Scout bunkhouse up near Jacobs Lake?" he asked. He could only think of one time that she would have had any reason to go up there, and that was months ago. He tilted his head to one side as he waited for her answer.

It was an odd question, she thought, but Nia shrugged. "Sure, we had to clear out those porcupine that had made themselves at home under the steps."

"That's right," Mitch said, "Well, now we need to turn it into a temporary motel for Kinkaids men."

Mitch did not notice the slight intake of breath, or the widening of her eyes. Nia tried to keep her cool as her thoughts turned to a certain very tall, very big man. One that she had only seen once. But that had definitely been enough to get her attention. She blinked a few times as she cleared her thoughts.

"What do we already have up there?" she asked, ready to get started. "I seem to remember seeing the place filled with old army cots. Is that what we are using?"

Within two hours, Nia had orchestrated the quick cleaning of the bunk room and all of the cots, and had arrived with foam pads, bedding and pillows to make it as comfortable as possible. When she arrived and walked in, the sun was shining through all of the windows. For a moment she watched the dust swirl and dance in the bright rays. Then it occurred to her that no one could sleep with all of this light and she rushed back out of the building.

The windows were blacked out, covered in layers of aluminum foil, Nia finished the job just ten minutes before the men arrived. She was packing her supplies into her truck when the vans pulled up. Frozen in place when she noticed Tank, she watched as they all filed into the bunk house and closed the door.

Her heart went out to them, they all looked bone weary and a little bit disheartened. The man she was most particularly worried about was one of the last to wearily climb the wooden steps and disappear through the door. She had not been able to take her eyes off of him, and a part of her was disappointed that he had not seen her, even though he seemed to be scanning the area.

The urge to tuck him into bed all safe and sound came out of nowhere and surprised her with its intensity. As much as she wanted to linger and keep that thought there for a while, she had work to do, so she gently closed the back hatch and drove back to the operations building for her next assignment.

But there was nothing she could do about the train of thought that ran through her mind, or the image of Tank that she held there. Nothing she could do about the yearning she suddenly felt to be wrapped in his huge arms. She tried to scold herself for having these wild ideas, but it did no good.

. .oOo.


	9. Chapter 9

. .oOo.

Chapter 9

For about ten minutes, the news of the former White House chef was all over the news. In a town like DC, Chef Ben had been somewhat of a celebrity. Everyone knew who he was, had loved his work. The very personable man had seemed to be everywhere, delighting dignitaries, catering to celebrities, being featured in a cookbook. He seemed, to everyone, to have had a fascinating life, rubbing elbows with heads of state as well as the rich and powerful. Then he was gone.

At the time he left the White House, there had been a bit of a buzz in the media. But he had disappeared from the public eye so quickly, no one got the scoop. And without being able to get a sound byte from him, the story petered out. Now he was back in the news, the tragedy of his death was on everyone's mind. That was, until the disappearance of an even larger celebrity hit the airwaves. Then the once admired chef was all but forgotten.

Vasya Kostenka was everyone's favorite wunderkind. They all knew of him, had vied for his attention at all of the functions he'd ever attended. That he was gone, just gone, had the whole town reeling. They were practically in tears over the man they thought they knew.

It was with great interest and a bit of cynicism that he watched the media frenzy over his carefully calculated departure. It almost made Vasya burst out laughing. Not a single person, that had been interviewed by the reporters, even knew him. They had just wanted to be associated with him, with his success. That is how it had always been, how he had set it up to be. Still, it somehow annoyed him that they could all be so phony.

He was glad he was gone. Absently he rubbed his tender fingertips. Leaving just enough of his own blood in the bathroom, Vasya assured that the police would be looking into his case. A bloody hand print was the perfect touch for a bit of the drama that he loved so well. Just a little game he liked to play, a way to say goodbye to the identity that had been his for so long.

He was no longer that person, Vasya had never really existed. Walking down the street, they would not recognize him now. Not even Sarah. For some reason, that thought disturbed him. He was leaving her behind, leaving her in a bad position. If she was smart she would quit her job and walk away from the dangerous world he had introduced her to.

At the moment, no one else knew that she had been his source, that was her only security. He had told her so, but he knew that she would not listen. Greed. Unlike the chef who had had to be threatened with the one thing he valued more than his own life, Sarah had a much simpler motivation. She wanted more out of life and would do anything at all to get it. That is how he found her, and that is what would make her seek out someone else who would buy the intel she was privy to.

How long she would last without him was anyone's guess. The chef had made it a whole year before he had been taken care of. But someone had found him, and disposed of him, as Vasya knew they would. He had seen it happen over and over again. No one liked leaving loose ends. The man should have known that you don't get to just walk away. Ever.

. .oOo.

Aban stood across the street and watched. He knew all about Melissa Davron, it had been his job to know every detail they could about the man they had been working with, and that had included his family. Though it was none of his business, Aban had never liked this woman when she had been married to the chef. And he liked her even less now. It seemed to him that all she had ever done was try to make her husband's life miserable. Aban had seen the texts she had sent to him. Ben Davron had long ago stopped all of that by tossing his phone. And the best thing he could have ever done, in Aban's opinion, was to disappear completely.

All of this Aban had watched with an indignation that he had been raised with, women were not to treat their husbands that way, especially not when they themselves were treated with such respect and love. What kind of person was she anyway. It was something, he constantly reminded himself, that was truly not his concern. But he could not deny that it had bothered him.

For such a long time, he had been monitoring the chef constantly to make sure he was doing what he had been paid to do, that was all that was required of him. In many way, Aban saw Davron as a good man, even if he did not agree with his chosen path of betraying his own country by sharing its secrets. It was not a surprise to Aban that he was actually glad when the chef left, but he knew that he was the only one who felt that way. The leaders were furious and for a year, they'd had Aban and Mahir searching for him.

For his part, Aban was interested to know where he had gone too, but not for the same reasons. Aban did his duty, making it look like he had been doing everything in his power to find him. Deep inside, he knew that the moment he was located, that would be the end to Chef Ben Davron. So his efforts may have been deliberately sloppy and very slow.

Not to mention that the chef had done a very good job of leaving with no trace. It was the truth, and that is what Aban told everyone, he was not going to be an easy man to find. It had taken months for Aban to find the one clue that would ultimately lead to the man who he didn't want to find. And he had effectively kept that hidden for as long as he could.

Mahir had been easily fooled, and since he had frequently been distracted by other assignments, he did not push Aban about it. That worked for awhile, but as Aban knew all along, the leaders were not pleased and they finally did something about it, forcing Aban to give up the information that led them to Davron. Then they had ordered Mahir and Aban to go with the assassination team. Probably an attempt to toughen them up and show them how things were done.

That had angered Aban more than anything ever had. Once he had believed that there were things, peaceful but effective things, that could bring change in a world filled with evil and hate. He thought that the resistance he had joined was the way to do it. He had believed them as they had preached their lofty goals and ambitions. Aban had hoped he could be part of the change.

But at the beginning, they had never talked about killing to achieve their ends. When it was obvious that their methods had changed, it was too late for Aban to get out. His fate was sealed. By that point, he knew that they killed people who tried to leave.

So, if he would probably die anyway, it had become Aban's objective to bring down the whole organization. They had lied to him, lied to everyone about their intentions. They did not care about peace, it seemed that power was all that mattered to them. Power gained over others by any and every means possible. How could he, in good conscience allow them to continue?

The plan he had made had been simple enough. Aban made copies of everything he had, everything he did, saving it on the portable zip drive that he had kept hidden. While he let them believe that he was a low level technician like Mahir, in actuality, he was quite skilled. Manipulating the files, before he handed them over, never caught anyone's attention.

Soon after they had arrived in the US, Aban had started making weekly visits to the local public library. Mahir went with him, keeping busy by sending out the bits of propaganda that he was given, he was more than happy to do so. It was during these visits that Aban did his own research. Creating secure connections and getting past firewalls was never a problem, and he was able to dig into files about the people he needed to stop.

He was often amazed what the few tricks he had learned here and there could do to get him into the files that he needed. Over time, Aban was carefully, slowly, compiling the data that he felt would be needed to track down as many dangerous people as he could, starting with his own leaders and branching out to all the names that he had heard mentioned in conversations over the years, names that he was not necessarily supposed to have heard.

The only thing that he had not been sure of was the timing. How long could he wait to find someone that he trusted to give the information to. That was the problem he had been trying to work out when they had been dragged to Arizona. It was the last place on earth that he thought he could find his answer.

Aban was still having a hard time dealing with the events of the past week. As much as he tried not to let them, the details of that terrible day continually played out in his mind.. When they had shown up at his cabin, the chef had known that he was going to die, Aban had seen it in his eyes.

When Aban realized what they had come to do, he started to scream at Mahir, at the men with them, the assassins. The attack had started by then, and in the most terrible event of his life, he had even shielded the chef with his own body, in an attempt to stop what was happening. All it got him was a tirade of angry words and a beating of his own.

Battered and in pain, both Aban and the chef had crumpled down to the floor. In the mayhem, Davron had grabbed him before being dragged out of his house. "Find Manoso," he had said softly. In desperation he whispered into Aban's ear. "Tell him what you know."

If he was surprised that the chef seemed to be trusting him, he did not show it. The last words that Aban heard him say made his heart ache. Making eye contact right before he was knocked unconscious, Ben Davron pleaded with Aban.

"Tell him I'm sorry."

Turning his back on Melissa Davron, in more ways than one, Aban had left. Though he had felt the need to see it for himself, he had seen enough. The next thing that he did would most likely destroy her artificial world. Aban shrugged. Once again, he thought, that was not his concern.

. .oOo.

 _Earlier that morning_

"Transport planes will be here in twenty," Kinkaid said to the room, as the men were packing up their equipment. Silent nods acknowledged the information. The general looked around at the determined, yet fatigued faces. Now he nodded to himself. They weren't going to like it, but he was going to call a mandatory four hours or so of sleep for them, just as soon as they got back to the Operations building.

He had already told Ranger as much. Had seen the reluctance, and the acceptance in his eyes as he realized that it was necessary. Kinkaid understood, this was a tough group of men, the best he had ever worked with. They would feel the pressure to keep working, to find the people who had done this to their friend. And he knew that they would not want to stop before they did. They would also see the wisdom of getting that rest, so that they could come back to it with fresh eyes.

Gielen had helped to make the sleeping arrangements for all of them. He hadn't promised five star accommodations, but he did say that he had just the place that offered all of the requirements that they would need. It would not be more than an hour or so before they could all bunk down and get some sleep.

Satisfied that he had everything under control, Kinkaid moved over to talk to Wallace as they waited for the planes to arrive. They were only a few minutes out, he was informed by the ranger, who was tracking the planes on his surprisingly sophisticated equipment. Kinkaid could see how it was that no movements in this part of the park could be missed by Wallace, and he was impressed.

Ranger couldn't stop the thoughts racing around inside of his head. It took all of his concentration as he packed his stuff into a sturdy black canvas bag. He yanked at the zipper to close it, and pushed it away from him. His movements threatened to betray him, his lack of control almost starting to show.

Yes, he was tired, and yes, he wanted to find Chef's killers. But that was not what was on his mind right now. Stepping away from the rest of the guys, Ranger found a quiet spot at the side of Wallace's house. Leaning against the wall, he pulled his phone out, and quickly punched out a message. Hesitating only a moment, he hit the send button and shoved the phone back into his pocket.

Within moments, the message had been delivered, and Ranger was climbing into one of the small planes. His thoughts never left Stephanie. Even if she got his message, he knew that he was going to be out of range for a while, and he would not see her response. This bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

She had become such an essential part of his life, his world, and he hated knowing that he had not told her so. Things needed to change. It was time. Now that he had set this in motion, there was no turning back. Not that he wanted to.

Fortunately, it was too noisy inside of these transport planes, and Ranger didn't have to try to talk to any one. Instead he closed his eyes and pictured Stephanie in his mind. Hoping that she would have seen his message by now, knowing that she probably hadn't.

He imagined that secret smile of hers when she read it. The sparkle in her gorgeous blue eyes. Maybe she would even be a bit breathless as she anticipated the moment when he would be back, he knew he had a hard time breathing just thinking of taking her in his arms again.

Almost exactly an hour later, in an old bunk house that had been hastily, but adequately, outfitted for them, Ranger was asleep. Dreams, if they came to him, would be centered around the only woman that had ever touched his heart.

Stephanie.

She was the last thought in his head as he drifted into the much needed slumber.

. .oOo.

It was not as hard to find the man, Manoso, as Aban had feared. Turning again to the internet, his search immediately brought up several results for the name. All he had to do was narrow it down. With what he knew about Davron, it was easy to make a few certain deductions.

An article, from a few years back, in the Times of Trenton, popped up in his search. It named the new owner of a security business as one Carlos Manoso. "A decorated member of the armed forces," it had said, among other things. This was enough to direct his search to this man.

Aban could not find much personal information, so he concentrated on the business that had been mentioned in the article. RangeMan Inc. It led him to Trenton, New Jersey, just a short distance from where he had been living for the past few years. Though he would have gone anywhere he needed to, to find this man, Aban felt it a good omen, and it was a nice convenience, to see that he was so close.

He pulled up to the curb outside of the red brick building and smiled to himself. The chef, he knew, had been a Ranger. This was the confirmation that he had, indeed, found the right man. As eager as Aban had thought he was, to finally pass on all the information that he had been gathering for these past years, he suddenly found himself torn. He hesitated before opening the car door to get out and walk up to the entrance.

No matter his convictions, he felt like he was about to become a betrayer. His cause, his country, they had meant so much to him. By handing over this information, Aban knew that he would no longer belong to either. By necessity, he would never be able to go home again. If he was not considered a terrorist by the United States, he would most certainly be thought of as a traitor to his own people.

Walking into that building would end the life that Aban had known. He no longer had a future, not one that he could see. He only hoped that this friend of Davron's would understand what he was trying to do. This was the hardest thing he would ever have to do. Even leaving his home, years ago, had not felt like this. With his hand on the door handle, Aban took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He was ready, it was time.

A split second later, as the door slowly opened, Aban caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He slammed the door shut and started to crawl across the seat, trying to escape out of the other side of the car. Shots range out. Loud, sharp sounds as bullets impacted with metal and glass.

They had found him. Aban knew that they would, eventually. Mahir had been willing to walk away and leave him behind, but Aban was sure that he would not be so lucky with the rest of the organization. His only wish was that they had taken a bit longer to come for him. Somehow he had known that the end of the chef, would also mean the end to himself.

His life was over. Regrets lined themselves up in his mind. Then suddenly, Aban felt himself being lifted, carried. A large man in black had his arms around him, shielding him with his own large body. Nothing had prepared Aban for that. His mind nearly went blank as he was rushed inside of the building.

More gunshots were fired, and Aban was once again amazed as he realized that the shots were being returned. A quick glimpse around him revealed that more of these men, dressed in black, were defending themselves, protecting him. His breath caught in his throat. If he were a man who cried, tears would be in his eyes.

"We have been expecting you," a voice behind him said. As Aban was placed upright on the floor of the elevator, he turned to face yet another huge mountain of a man dressed head to toe in black clothing. At the same time that he was checking him out for possible injuries, the man extended his hand. "Welcome Aban," he said. "I'm Cal."

He waited a moment to see the recognition come into his eyes, then he nodded. A relief he had not expected flooded over him and Aban felt himself staring at the large man. This man had to be the person that Aban had spoken to when he had called earlier.

In their brief conversation, they had agreed that though Manoso was not here at the time, Aban coming here would be the best course of action. Actually Aban had only reluctantly complied with the request, his first instinct had been to meet somewhere neutral so that he could turn over the zip drive and then try to disappear.

Now he was glad that he had listened to this man. As crazy as it seemed, with all of the havoc erupting all around him, Aban felt safe here. A feeling that he had not experienced for years now, and it melted into his bones, warming the cold that had settled there.

. .oOo.


	10. Chapter 10

. .oOo.

Chapter 10

Arriving early to work, Stephanie pulled her car into her regular spot and headed to the elevator. From somewhere deep in her shoulder bag she could feel the buzz of a new text just seconds before the notification ring sounded. With one hand she dug around feeling for her phone as the elevator took her to the fifth floor. Finally she found it and pulled it out. A double tap with her finger turned on the screen and displayed Ranger's name as the person who had sent the message. She swiped it open and looked down at the words.

The doors opened and she stepped out slowly. Her hand trembled, and Stephanie nearly dropped her phone. Her heart was racing, and she had to sit down before her legs wouldn't hold her up anymore. Stephanie stumbled over to the first chair that she could see and dropped into it. She was staring at the phone still cradled in her hand, for a long time. And now she was finding it difficult to catch her breath. But breathing was not what she was thinking about.

Reading Ranger's words seemed to have released all of the anxiety, all of the tension that had been building up inside of her for weeks now. The relief nearly made her cry. Tears did fill her eyes, and yet she felt like shouting for joy at the same time.

Suddenly realizing that she was not alone, Stephanie stood shakily. Doing her best to smile, she nodded a shy hello to the guys who were watching her so intently as she hurried down the hallway. It only took her another minute or so to reach her cubicle where she knew she would have a bit of privacy.

Sitting down again, she took another look at the message. Still a man of few words, Ranger had managed to say everything that she had wanted to hear for so long.

"Miss you!

Can't wait to see you again!

Wait for me.

R"

It was easy to read a million things into those few words, but Stephanie took them to mean exactly what they said. Her eyes sparkled with tears of joy, relief. Still trying to catch her breath, she couldn't help but smile. She knew it was a big goofy smile, but she didn't care. Ranger wanted to be with her. Any doubts that she'd had eroded away leaving her deliriously happy.

"See you when you get back," she wrote her reply and sent it immediately. There was so much more she wanted to say, but she didn't want to seem too overly eager. Even if she totally was. Reluctantly she tucked the phone into her pocket. Finally letting go of all of the anxiety, that had plagued her for weeks, made her feel as if a huge weight had been lifted.

She had been so worried all of this time. Afraid that she had ruined any chance that she might have had be close to the one, and only, man who had ever made her feel real. Her heart had belonged to Ranger since the first moment she had seen him. She knew that now, and she would always wonder why it had taken so long for her to realize it, and to decide to fight for the chance to be with him.

Settling down enough to get any work done was not easy, but eventually Stephanie managed to start on the list of searches that Rodriguez had left for her. Showing incredible restraint, she only pulled out her phone, to re-read Ranger's message, about three times an hour.

Resisting the urge to send him a stream of messages of her own, only lasted until noon. Stephanie had sent three short messages and was working on the fourth when she heard a disturbance on the comm floor. Hurriedly, she finished and sent the last one as she made her way toward the noises.

All of the guys were in motion when she got to the main desk. Most of them were running toward the stairwell, their guns out and at the ready. Something was definitely wrong. Before she could grab anyone and ask what was going on, the elevator opened and Cal stepped out, accompanied by a man she had never seen before. They moved quickly down the hall toward Ranger's office. Lester joined them and motioned for Stephanie to come along too.

Getting close to a full blown panic mode, she rushed to catch up with them. Her heart was pounding again. Fear that she couldn't name came flooding into her mind, and she wished that Ranger were here now. She always felt so safe when he was with her. How often had she recognized that fact?

For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to picture how it would be to wrap her arms around him. Imagined how it would feel to be held in his arms again. The realization that this was no fantasy, not just a hope anymore, calmed her immediately.

A warmth started in her heart, spreading quickly throughout her body. Everything was going to be okay. She knew Ranger would be back with her. It would happen soon, and she couldn't wait. This new found tranquility helped her to manage her worries about whatever what happening here right now. With it she moved down the hall. Ranger wanted to be with her. She could handle anything.

. .oOo.

The sound of a car door closing woke Ranger from his deep sleep. Another slam, and then another alerted him, and all of the men in the bunk house, that they were not alone. They were all sitting up, hands on their weapons when the door at the far end of the building opened.

Bright sunlight flooded in, obscuring the figure of the person who walked through the door. Ranger stood and moved quickly toward it, he felt the team fall in behind him. It had been a long time since they had had to watch each others backs, it was a good feeling to have them stand with him again.

"Uh," a hesitant voice said, obviously a bit intimidated with twelve large men looming over her. "I was asked to let you know that we brought in lunch, it's being set up in the other building."

The tension in the room vanished immediately. Ranger now recognized the person standing there as the woman that Tank had been eying in the ranger's office when they had first arrived. He started to take a step closer, to thank her for informing them, when Tank moved swiftly past him to do the honors.

Ranger watched, quite entertained to see his friend flirting with her. All charming, he leaned over her and smiled. When he offered her his arm and actually escorted her out of the room, Ranger nearly lost it. Tank was smitten, and everyone could see it.

"Don't think I've ever seen Tank that whipped," Bobby said, as he came up to stand next to Ranger. "I think it's about damned time, if you ask me," he said, using exactly the words that Tank himself had used when talking about Ranger and Stephanie.

Not needing to be asked twice, the men filed out of the bunk house and headed over to eat. The rest had done them all a great deal of good. And now they really were hungry. Putting their weapons away and laughing about the way they still had what it takes to deal with any perceived threat, it didn't take long for the team to make their way to the improvised mess hall.

Some of their chatter died when they saw Kinkaid standing there with the park rangers. Though he did not say a word, they knew by looking at him that their time here was over. Instinctively they watched as he sat down at a table. When he picked up his fork and started eating, they all relaxed a little. At least now they knew that there would be enough time for lunch before they left.

. .oOo.

Cal closed the door after she entered, and Stephanie looked at the men standing there. Pulling chairs from the front of Ranger's desk, they sat down. Cal and Stephanie took the couch and as soon as they were seated, the man started talking.

"I thank you for saving me," he said, the sincerity in his face was evident. "I didn't mean for this to happen," he spread his hands open in front of him, revealing the zip drive he had been clutching tightly. "It was only a matter of time, I knew they would find me, but I hoped I had enough time to get this to Mr. Manoso before they killed me."

He handed it over to Lester who got up and moved around to sit in Ranger's chair as he accessed his computer. Stephanie could still feel her heart racing, her mind full of questions. Who was trying to kill this poor man? What could be so important that they would actually want him dead? And why had he come here with it?

"I'm glad you called," Cal said, leaning forward as he addressed Aban. "Ranger, um, Mr. Manoso is not back yet but like I said on the phone, we can help you, and we can keep you safe. Lets see what you've got and go from there." Both Cal and Aban turned their attention to Lester.

As she glanced over at Lester too, Stephanie knew that he was running security and anti virus checks on the drive, it was standard operating procedure before allowing anything into the system. And it would take a few minutes to get it cleared before any of her questions could be asked and hopefully answered. All of their attention had been on Lester for a few minutes, until the man turned to Stephanie and extended his hand.

"We have not met," he said, a small, shy smile appearing on his face. "I am Aban Lufti."

Stephanie shook his hand, "Stephanie Plum," she said, noticing the tight lines around his eyes and mouth. She could tell that he was tired and scared. What had happened to him, she wondered, and what had be been apologizing for? She was sure it had something to do with the way the guys had been armed and were hurrying down the stairs when she got here.

She remembered how serious they had looked, rushing out with their guns at the ready. The fear she had felt earlier came back in to her chest, and she gasped at the pressure. What was happening downstairs right now? Were the guys fighting the people that had been threatening this man, Aban? Stephanie was getting a headache from all the questions and worries racing through her mind.

Lester and Cal did not seem too upset about the other guys, and Stephanie still wasn't sure if she was okay with that, but she figured that she could wait for them to explain things to her when they were ready. Fortunately, her attention was quickly drawn to another matter.

"Steph," Lester said, "Can you come and take a look at this?"

Mumbling a few words to excuse herself, Stephanie stood and walked around the desk to stand behind Lester. He had a file open and was slowly scrolling down as she watched. He knew that she would know what he needed her to with it. As soon as she touched his shoulder, Lester got up and let her take over.

She took a few minutes, navigating through the highly organized information in the various files. Then Stephanie looked up and smiled at Aban. "You did all this?" she asked. He slowly nodded, looking relieved that they seemed to understand. "Wow,"she said.

Turning her attention back to the computer, Stephanie clicked through file after file. Ranger needed to see this. What they knew about Davron's activities was only the tip of the iceberg. What Aban had documented here almost made her cringe. He had taken a huge risk even keeping records like this.

Times and places and names were all here. He had even managed to take some pretty good pictures, since they were probably only taken with the camera on his phone. If any of these people knew what he had, it was no question that his life was in danger.

"I hate to ask," Stephanie said, turning to Aban. "But why did you bring this here?"

Cal and Lester exchanged looks, they had been over this not long ago, after Aban's phone call. Aban nodded at her as he scooted to sit on the edge of his chair and leaned toward her. He had expected this question. Had himself been wondering about it. More times than he could count, he had agonized over it. There was only one answer, and he gave it as clearly as he could, once again feeling certain and so relieved.

"In the moment before he died, it was the chef that told me to find Mr. Manoso, to tell him what I know," he said. And then, bowing his head slightly, he added, "And to tell him that he was sorry."

There was so much more she would want to know, and she would ask him later. Right now, her heart was breaking for Ranger. After everything Ben had done, Davron knew that it was Ranger who could put things right again. She couldn't imagine how Ranger was going to feel when he heard those words.

Her eyes were drawn to the computer when a picture came onto the screen. Stephanie stopped scrolling and stared at the photo. She had seen this man before. She took a moment to read the lines below the photo.

The words identified the man as Vasya Kostenka. Famous playboy and successful entrepreneur. And another one of Chef Ben Davron's contacts. Stephanie understood immediately that he was one of the players in Chef's game of secrets.

It wasn't hard to remember where she had seen this man's picture, he was famous and his picture was all over the place. And, as of this morning, he was missing. She had caught the news report, on the radio in her car, on her way in this morning. This was all getting to be too crazy.

The guys just nodded when she mentioned seeing Kostenka. So she kept scrolling slowly, there were pages and pages of photos that Aban had taken, all of them identified with dates and as many names as possible. Behind her, a gasp stopped her. Lester leaned over her shoulder, and she heard another sharp intake of breath.

"Oh shit," Lester said, the words whooshing out of his lungs. As what he saw literally knocked the breath right out of him.

"Damn, Cal," he said looking up. His eyes found Cal's and held them as he said, "You need to see this."

Stephanie and Aban watched as Cal circled the desk and stared at the screen. "Is that?" he started to say. "No, it can't be."

Simultaneously Lester and Cal turned and looked closely at the photo that was hanging on the wall. It showed a younger Ranger, with Tank and Bobby. They were surrounded by ten more men, all in combat fatigues, all holding huge weapons.

Ben Davron was there, and so was Nick Ellis. "Isle" The nickname that Ellis had gone by was spoken by Cal first. Lester echoed it in a voice that was now filled with all kinds of emotions, rage being chief among them.

Stephanie already had her phone in her hands when Cal nearly shouted, "We need to let Ranger know, now!"

. .oOo.

Ranger almost couldn't eat. Knowing that they would be leaving soon filled him with anticipation of getting back to see Stephanie. Suddenly a thought hit him and he pulled out his phone, turning it on with an urgency that would have surprised anyone who may have noticed.

Immediately the ping of a text notification rang out. Then another and another, and another. Ranger broke a smile as he saw who all of the messages were from. He quickly read through them, realizing that she had sent them only moments after he had shut his phone off before he left to get some sleep.

It did all kinds of crazy things to his heart to know that she had responded so quickly. To know that she was as anxious to be with him again as he was to see her. Setting the phone on the table, Ranger forced himself to eat the meal that had been provided, even though he was no longer thinking about food.

He glanced around the room, finally letting his eyes settle on Tank. At a nearby table, his friend was seated opposite of the beautiful woman that he was so obviously taken with. They were smiling, laughing, completely absorbed in each other. Ranger felt a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

There would be no teasing Tank about the way he was reacting to Miss Alkins. In his heart, Ranger knew that when you find the right person, there is no point in holding back. How could he not appreciate what Tank was feeling, Ranger thought, when he was going through the same thing himself.

A buzzing on the table brought him out of his musing. Ranger looked down, Stephanie's name came up on the small screen. Another smile was appearing on his lips and in his eyes. He quickly opened the text and the smile faded. Ranger stood and walked directly over to the general. Kinkaid looked up and waited.

"Sir," Ranger said in a low voice. "We need to get back as soon as possible." He handed over the phone and Kinkaid read Stephanie's message. Nodding he gave the phone back and stood.

"We are out of here in thirty," he said, his loud voice echoing in the hall. "Finish up, then gather your gear and meet out by the vans."

. .oOo.


	11. Chapter 11

. .oOo.

Chapter 11

With his earpiece in place, Cal was monitoring the action on the street below. A complete lock down had been ordered, all the men knew what to do in a situation like this. He had sent two teams down to take care of the attack by the men who were after Aban. While Chet took his group of four men down to the front of the building, Woody and his team were moving around the back to come up behind the terrorists.

Though the men he was with said very few words, Aban was more than aware of what must be happening outside. He watched Cal and Lester with concern. This was all his fault. He had accidentally brought this danger right to the doorstep of the people who were helping him, and he felt awful. No matter how many times he asked himself how things could have gotten out of hand like this, the answer was always the same. He had done this.

Aban was not a soldier, not a terrorist either, no matter that he had joined up with some. He was regretting so many of the decisions that he'd made. It was painfully clear to him now that he lacked any kind instinct that would have helped him detect the men who had been following him. What had he done?

His skill with computers was all he had to offer. How could he have thought that he could get away with his reckless plan? He had seen what the organization was capable of. He knew that he was not safe, would never be safe from them. Oh, how could he have brought that danger here? Over and over again he was mentally beating himself up for being so stupid. So foolish.

He had been pacing the small office. Stephanie glanced up again from the computer to see the look on his face. She noticed again how tired and scared he looked. Several times she had assured him that he was safe here, but it had not seemed to help. Aban had great courage, she could see that from the intel that he had been gathering for years. She was impressed that he had held it together this long.

As much as she wanted to let him understand that as long as he was here, no harm would come to him, Stephanie could only do what she could do. And what she could do is to call on Ella to make things better for him. The message had already gone out to her that Aban would be staying here, and Ella was on top of making all the necessary arrangements. Stephanie was pretty sure that Aban would be very glad to meet Ella when the time came.

Suddenly Aban stopped. He held perfectly still, as if he was trying to gather enough strength to move forward. He knew what he had to do. The zip drive was safe, now he had to save Manoso's men who were fighting. Who were in danger because of him. Resolutely, Aban took several deliberate steps, making his way to the door.

Stephanie smiled, Aban was so easy to read. His body language said it all, and she knew that he was heading down to give himself up. Noble to be sure, but not necessary, her guys were going to handle the threat without Aban sacrificing himself.

Though Stephanie watched him, she did not try to stop him. She was not worried about what he was planning to do. Stephanie knew that Ella was just down the hall, and she would stop him in his tracks. Aban opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

"Oh, hello," Stephanie heard Ella say. "You must be Mr. Lufti," she said. "I'm so glad to meet you."

Cal looked up, exchanging a knowing glance first with Lester, and then Stephanie. Placing one hand over his ear piece, he moved to the door and watched Ella in action. She was shaking Aban's hand with her right hand and gently laying her left hand on his shoulder, just as friendly and non-threatening as Ella could always be.

In just a few long strides Cal reached them. "Aban," Cal spoke softly so that his voice would not carry over his mouth piece. "This is Ella." He nodded toward her and smiled. "She keeps the place running smoothly," he said.

Aban looked from Cal to Ella, back to Cal. What was he to do? There men were men being shot at, good men who were only trying to protect him. It did not feel right that he was up here safe and doing nothing. He tried to make an excuse to pull away, but just then Cal held up his finger to stop him.

"Good," Cal said. "We'll get them a full report after Ranger gets back."

Both Ella and Aban listened in silence. "Secure the area and bring the teams back in."

Before Cal could explain, Lester joined them in the hallway.

"It's over," Lester confirmed. "Trenton's finest arrived just in time to haul them away." The smirk on his lips giving away what he felt about that. He would much rather have them locked up in the holding cells in the basement, an interrogation or two might shake loose some interesting information.

On the other hand, Ranger was on his way back, they had more to deal with than Aban's would be assassins. It was probably a good thing that the TPD took that headache away. Now that he had thought it through, he was satisfied and he clapped Aban on his shoulder and grinned.

"Who's hungry?" he asked, directing the question to Ella. She took up his on cue immediately and moved both Aban and Lester down the hall with her. She would show Aban to the apartment she had made ready for him, but first, dinner was waiting in the break room.

Reluctantly Aban allowed them to lead him along. Lester understood, and with unfeigned enthusiasm he recounted all that had happened since the moment that they had pulled him from the car. Aban asked question after question, only pausing when Ella set plates of food on the table in front of them.

Gratitude overwhelmed him and he grasped her hand in his. Words did not seem enough to express how he was feeling. Ella patted his hand, her eyes showed him that she understood. In that moment Aban felt at home in a way that he never had before. The fear was gone, so too was the guilt that had threatened to consume him only a short time ago. He owed these people so much, and no words would be ever enough.

. .oOo.

Kinkaid was furious. He now knew exactly who hated him enough to try to do as much damage as he could, not only to Kinkaid himself, but to the team that he had been kicked off of. From the moment he had seen the text message, that Stephanie had sent to Ranger, he knew that they were all in a lot of trouble.

The men watched as the general paced up and down the isle in the private jet that was now whisking them back to DC. His actions unnerved most of them. This was not the behavior that they were accustomed to from the rock solid man they had known all of these years. He was not easily rattled, and that he was now spoke volumes. No one knew what to expect next.

He had to work this out in his mind. Kinkaid himself was not used to feeling like this. Feeling conned, outwitted, misled, no this did not happen to him. The pacing was all that was keeping his temper under control at the moment. But soon he would have to share what he now knew with the men.

That they had spent all this time in Arizona had only delayed what he was sure Ellis had in store for them. He was a dangerous man. A loner who had never fit in with a team. That was precisely the reason why he did not make it as a Ranger. Kinkaid would not let himself regret that decision. He'd had to do what was right for the team, and he did.

At the time he damn well felt justified. He had given the kid a chance. Hell, because he had been asked to, by his close friend, he had given him more than one chance. But he had to draw the line somewhere. And he had.

"What did you do?" Kinkaid muttered to no one but himself.

The general stopped his pacing, he stood at the back of the cabin and he looked over the heads of his men. Taking a moment to think, he now recognized his biggest mistake. He had made the assumption that Ben Davron had been killed by the same people who had tried to publish that stupid book. How could he have been so dense? Even when the men had explored the possibility that the two factors were unrelated, he had still tried to hold on to his theory.

Now it was all too obvious. Nick Ellis never did anything small. It appeared that instead of focusing his revenge on him, the one person he still held responsible after all this time, Ellis had gone after the whole team. Kinkaid wouldn't put it past him to try to hurt as many people as he could. The chip on his shoulder was as big as a house, and he didn't care who got in his way. But he wanted to hurt them, not kill them. That would be too easy of a way out.

He probably thought that he was pretty damn smart to come up with that book idea, Kinkaid thought. It really could have done a lot of damage, and not just to the team that Ellis was targeting with him. Relationships with allies, reputations of countless military personnel, even the families of any of the men he had mentioned in those stories could all come under fire. Kinkaid knew that Ellis was shrewd, he was well aware of what the American public would say about the stories, and that they would never care that every single thing that had been written had been taken out of context.

The man was unstable. Kinkaid knew now, more than ever, that he always had been. It had been against his recommendations that another agency picked him up to use his skills, but they went ahead anyway. As predicted, it had been a disaster. Kinkaid had been in a position to hear the details that no one else was authorized to. He knew exactly why Ellis had eventually been reassigned to an office position after that final incident.

Here is where anger simmered for Kinkaid, and this anger was directed at himself. Once Ellis had been in what he considered a safe situation, working in an office, he had not followed through. He had not kept as close an eye on the man as he probably should have. All this time, behind the scenes, Nick Ellis had been free to plan and plot his revenge. And no one was looking.

That he had stopped the printing of the book had probably angered the man enough to make him up the ante on his plans for avenging himself. The fallout from that book might have been enough for him, at one time. But now Kinkaid knew that Ellis had to get his satisfaction, and he'd do it another way. He was kicking himself, whatever happened next was on him, all his fault, all because he had been to blind to see what should have been so obvious.

The team was not going to like what he had to tell them. And they were going to hate what he was going to have to do. That was just tough, Kinkaid thought, he would keep them safe, if it was the last thing he did.

. .oOo.

Nia's eyes were wet with tears. Standing in the doorway she watched the vans pull away and disappear down the dirt road. The cloud of dust obscured them enough to make it seem like it had all been a dream.

Oh, and what a dream it had been. As she touched a finger to her cheek, Nia thought about the parting kiss that Tank had given her. Holding both of her hands in his, he'd had to bend way over to deliver that kiss. So whisper soft on her skin, it could have been part of the best dream she had ever had.

Through the tears, a smile graced her lips. Tank was the most wonderful man she had ever met. She had never felt this way about anyone before. From that first moment she had seen him looking at her, there had been an enormous swell of emotions inside of her chest. She had seen something in his eyes, more than just admiration, though that had definitely been there. Nia knew that she had seen a connection in that first look, one that would keep her forever yearning for him.

It was not what she was looking for, not at this point in her life. But now that she had felt it so strongly, she knew that this connection was the one thing that she had been searching for, even if she had not known it.

Now he was gone. Their departure had been so rushed, it was not until this moment that she realized she had never even thought to ask for a phone number, an e-mail address, something, anything so that she could talk to him again.

Becoming aware of the internal war raging inside of her didn't make her feel any better about that enormous oversight. But she understood. Part of her wanted nothing more than to be with Tank again. Always. And then there was the other part that was still very wary, this was not the first time that she had been down this path.

At twenty-seven, she had had a failed relationship or two and was not looking to repeat that kind of experience again. Besides, her career was supposed to come first, that was the whole reason she was out here finishing up her field training as a ranger. It wasn't just fate that had sent her to this spot, though she had to admit that meeting Tank sure made it feel like it.

The basic fact was, the incredible reputation of Gielen and his staff of rangers, meant that if someone could make it through their internship with them, they could pretty much write their own ticket from there. They would have their pick, and would be able to work at any one of the national or state parks that they chose.

That is why she was here right now, why she had left her home to come out all the way out here. Nia was that committed, and was so grateful that it had worked out the way she needed it to. Over a month ago Gielen had helped her send an application to the place that she had chosen. Of course, that had not been until after trying to convince her that she could stay, he sure could use her skills. She appreciated the vote of confidence, but she needed to get back to New Jersey.

With his recommendation it had happened, she would be working in the one location that she had hoped for. Just last week, the confirmation of her job at the Barnegat lighthouse State Park and with the Sedge Island Wildlife Management had come in. It was the perfect set up, she would be close to home so that she could keep an eye on her mother. And she would also get to continue her love for and study of the many species of birds that made their habitats on and around the island.

"The perfect job," she heard herself whisper in a voice that was filled with disappointment rather than the joy she had once felt. Staring at the cloud of dust as it dissipated and settled back onto the road, all she could think was that if Tank came back to find her when he was done with his investigation, she would not be here. Nothing else could have made her feel worse than knowing she might never see him again.

"I've got his number," Mitch said, coming out to stand next to her. He nearly laughed when she spun around and glared at him, ready to come to the defense of the man she already missed so terribly. A smile did emerge as he took a step back and held his hands up in surrender. "His phone number," he quickly clarified. "I've got his cell phone number."

After seeing the expression on her face change from defensive mode to very interested, he let the laugh loose. "Oh, does that mean that you want it?" He was enjoying this, Nia had been all business, a very dedicated worker ever since she had arrived here months ago. He had seen her fierce drive and amazing talents, but he couldn't help but notice that she had never tried to have much of a social life. From a comment or two that she had made while they had been working together, he knew that she had been burned before, and that she didn't think she was ready for, nor was she looking for any romantic entanglements.

That made her reaction to one of Kinkaid's men, a few days ago, all the more confusing to him at first. It had been only after he had commented on it to his wife, that he finally let it sink into his head that Nia might be experiencing that wonder called 'love at first sight.'

He will never forget that discussion with Cara. He had innocently mentioned that he thought it was funny that Nia had seemed so flustered around a man she had never even met. He never would have expected her to act so self conscious, so unlike the no nonsense ranger that she had been training to be.

Cara had smiled at him, one of those mysterious smiles that always threw him off. Then she had looked off in the distance, as if she could see something that he couldn't. "I know how she feels," Cara had said softly. "She may not know it yet, but she has met the man who will change her life forever."

Then she had surprised him by coming over and wrapping her arms around his waist. Mitch hugged her, mystified and confused. Laying her head on his chest, Cara whispered, "It's a moment she will never forget," she said, tightening her arms a little bit more. "I know, because that is how I felt when I first saw you."

Mitch pulled back to be able to see her face. Her eyes sparkled, and she reached up to kiss him. "You changed everything for me," she said. He nodded, pulling her back into his arms. Yes, though he had never thought about it like that, she was right, and he felt exactly the same way.

It was easy now to see these same things in the way Nia was acting. They had become friends, and Mitch wanted her to know how great falling in love could be, how it was meant to be. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper.

Handing it to her, he looked down the road. "And just like that, they will be back in DC in less than six hours," he said casually. He tried to hide his next smile, the one that responded to the way she snatched the paper and looked at the number. He saw the expression that lit her face when Nia noticed the area code for Trenton, New Jersey. It was priceless. Cara was going to like this part of the story.

. .oOo.

Once again, her credit cards as well as her debit cards were denied. Melissa Davron had returned home from her shopping trip empty handed and thoroughly humiliated. She was fuming as she stalked around her house looking for the contact information of the publishing company that had, up until a few weeks ago, been falling all over themselves to publish her book.

She couldn't understand why they had suddenly pulled away from the project, or why they had broken their contract with her. Her confusion over that was two fold; because not only was the book now completely finished, which is what they had been pushing for, they were the ones who had come to her to get her to write it in the first place. Why were they acting this way now?

No matter how many calls she made, she was still not finding anyone to talk to. Melissa had lost count of the number of messages she had been leaving. "Damn it," she said, ending another useless call. The two thousand dollar advance that they had given her was gone now. With a head full of steam and a gut full of dread, she wanted the next installment. It was her money, they had promised it to her she reasoned, and she wanted it now.

All of the arrangements for the book and her advances had been made through her agent. Nick had assured her that the guy was good, the best when he introduced her to Pete. But, of course Pete was also now mysteriously unavailable. This made no sense either, the man had been nearly breathing down her neck for months as she worked with Nick on the book. And again, she thought, getting disgusted about it all, he had been the one who came to her, pushing the idea with the publishers who he already had on board. Now everyone had dropped her like a hot potato. What was going on?

Finally Melissa dropped down on the couch in the front room. Leaning forward, her elbows braced on her knees and her head in her hands, she tried to think everything through. It had been a crazy year, that was for sure. And none of what had been happening had been expected, not at all.

How could she have known that Ben would up and quit his job. Melissa couldn't believe what a stupid idea that had been, and she told him so, right before she ordered him to go and get his job back. For the first time that she could remember, he had told her 'no'. And then, to add to the insanity, he had asked her to go away with him, to take a long trip, someplace that no one would ever find them. Unbelievably, he said all of this like it was a good thing.

What, was he crazy, why would she want to do that? The best part of being married to him was the job he'd just quit. And the best part of his job had been the big parties all over town that she was always invited to, ones she went to whether he was there with her or not. He was asking her to leave that all behind, and to go off to be alone with him?

She jerked her head up and snorted as she pushed herself up from the couch. "As if," she muttered, walking to the kitchen to grab her phone. She had given Ben the best years of her life, and she wasn't getting any younger. It was a good thing that she had found Nick when she did.

Ben could go off and do anything that he wanted now, she didn't care. In fact, she didn't even know where he had gone after signing the divorce papers. Once or twice she was curious, you know, just because. But now that she had Nick again, thoughts of Ben didn't come up all that often.

It had been a whirlwind of events ever since Nick had come back into her life. Melissa leaned against the counter as she let her phone speed dial him. For months, they had been inseparable. Melissa loved being the center of attention, and that was how it had been with Nick around. Every day he sat spellbound as she told the stories that she could remember from what Ben had told her.

That had actually been hard for her, she had not really listened all that closely to what Ben had said about what he had done with the team. What would she want to know any of that stuff for anyway. But this had been the idea that Nick and the agent he brought in wanted to pursue. It's not like she had ever paid much attention to any of the stories, but she went along with it because they were promising her huge bucks to do it. Melissa knew that she could never have done it on her own, amazingly, Nick seemed to be able to help her bring out the details of the stories. Like he knew what would come next. She had loved how excited he had seemed as he worked with her on the book.

The book that no one wanted anymore. Melissa slid into one of the kitchen chairs and listened to the phone that she held up to her ear. After six rings, it transferred her to his voice mail. She ended the call without leaving any messages. Nick was gone too. Like everyone else, he had left her alone, and she felt lost.

Dejectedly she got up to roam around the house again. Finally she sank down into a chair in the corner of the living room and turned on the TV. Not really paying much attention, Melissa was still feeling sorry for herself. A name she recognized was said and her head jerked up so that she could see the screen. "The body of Ben Davron has been recovered," the news reporter said. She would not have believed that it was Ben except that it was his picture displayed there.

Now she was numb. Ben was dead and it left her with a sick feeling inside. Her hand reached for the remote and turned off the TV. She sat there unable to move, not wanting to think. Just when everything seemed to be going so well, her whole world had started to fall completely apart.

. .oOo.


	12. Chapter 12

. .oOo.

Chapter 12

The hum of the engines, and the soft thudding of Kinkaids footsteps as he paced were the only sounds in the cabin of the plane. Everyone waited, wanting to know how any of it tied in with what they were doing. Would it help them find who killed Chef?

Ranger sat back, keeping his blank face in place. He appeared calm, but he had a thousand questions going through his mind. From the moment Stephanie had let him know that Cal and Lester were pretty sure that Nick Ellis was in the picture, he couldn't stop wondering why.

Way back when, Nick had trained with them for a spot on the team. Ranger remembered him as being skilled enough, but he had not been exceptional or particularly memorable most of the time. Except for his temper. The smallest things seemed to set him off, and he kept grudges forever.

That Kinkaid was so worried about Nick had Ranger more than curious. Ellis may have been a bit of a hothead, but what did it matter to them, he had not even made the team. As far as he knew, he had been reassigned somewhere else and had gone on with his life, keeping busy just like the rest of them had.

Since their days of training together, Ranger had only seen Ellis one time. In fact, he had saved his butt in an assignment that had gone FUBAR for Nick and the men he was working with. So he was having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that now this guy wanted to do as much damage as he could to the whole team. Bottom line was that he didn't even know them. Why would he want to hurt them?

There was another part to this story that Kinkaid had not told them yet. If the general didn't get to it soon, Ranger knew that he would be ready to have Stephanie do her thing and search out the answers for him.

Just the thought of Stephanie coming into his mind made him feel all warm inside. Two hours into the flight home, they were closer now, and he knew that he would be seeing her soon. If he closed his eyes he could even imagine that he could feel that prickling on the back of his neck, that always told him that she was near. That was one of the things that he loved so much about her. He had never had that kind of connection with anyone else. He missed it so much when he had to go away.

He missed a lot of things about Stephanie, but mostly he just wanted to get back to her so that they could finally have the talk that had been delayed for too long. He had so many things that he wanted to say to her. So many things that she needed to know. So many answers he needed to his questions. That warmth inside of him gradually spread, and hope with it. Hope that she would be there waiting for him when he got back.

Forcing his mind back to Kinkaid and the discussion they were about to have, Ranger focused his attention on him. He could see the hesitation, the dread in his eyes. This was so out of the norm for the general. After all that blank look they had all developed had originated with Kinkaid years ago.

Before the plane landed, Kinkaid needed to explain this new bit of information to the team. He knew that it would mean revealing details that he had preferred to keep buried forever. Time was getting short, they were halfway home and he needed to just get it out so that they all knew what they were dealing with. His pacing stopped and Kinkaid took his place at the front of the cabin so that all of the guys could see him. With one hand gripping the top of the seat for some support, he took a deep breath. And then he started speaking.

The background information that he was giving them was nothing new. Still they all listened intently, keeping their own opinions to themselves until they heard all that the general had to say. For some of them, all of this was a reminder of the part of their life that they had left behind. For others, it only served to bring back to mind the way the military worked. So many times, they had to operate on a need to know basis, only being given the intel that was deemed vital for them to complete their objective. But they all hoped that this time the general was going to be straightforward with them. So far nothing that was being said was of any particular help.

Ranger looked up when the general paused and the talking stopped and all he could hear was the hush of anticipation from the guys as they waited for the general to continue. Kinkaid had resumed his pacing, which let Ranger know that he had something that he really didn't want to share with them, but that he knew they had to know.

This was an interesting turn of events. Kinkaid had all kinds of secrets that he liked to keep close, that he had to share one of them was obviously wearing on him. Ranger leaned forward in his seat, anxious to hear what the general had to say about Nick Ellis. Hoping that whatever it was, they could use it to find the man and figure out what he had to do with any of this.

Minutes later, that is exactly what they had. Like Ranger, the guys had been wondering why a man that they had not known that long would want to do them harm. None of them had any memory of a time when they had upset or hurt him, and they all knew that it was a big piece of the puzzle that was still missing. They definitely needed some more information to find this guy.

. .oOo.

He had worn this key around his neck for more than two years now, and finally getting the chance to use it was making Zurie Burian feel almost giddy. He tried hard to keep the grin off of his face as the taxi approached his new home. Almost breathless, he stared up at the stone facade. It was magnificent. The photos of the place had certainly not done it justice. He couldn't wait to see inside.

Now that he was here, his transformation would be complete, and Zurie was looking forward to holing up inside of this perfect palace. Almost feeling like he was hiding in plain sight again, he had to admit that Vasya had good taste. Zurie laughed out loud, there was no one that could trace him to this place, not even if he had still been going by the name Vasya Kostenka.

It had been a few years ago when he and the chef had done some amazing financial maneuvers to secretly sock away as much cash as they could. That had been the one gift that Vasya had given to Chef Ben. He told himself that it was all in appreciation of his wonderfully detailed work, that it was the best thing he could do was to make sure that his favorite contact would always have the money that he had earned. But deep inside, Zurie had liked Ben, like a brother. Like Ben was part of the family that Zurie had never been allowed to have.

It only felt right to let Ben in on the secrets that he had discovered. Neither of them had ever been to Lichtenstein before their weekend excursion. Ben said that he had never even heard of it, but he was as excited to go as Vasya had been. It was funny, Ben kept thinking that he should not trust Vasya, their work relationship was anything but normal. But it had not been that way.

In fact, he had felt almost from the beginning that both he and Vasya had been thrown into this crazy situation together, but neither one really wanted to do it, and that proved to be the strongest bond of all. So he found that he did trust him, and he went along with the plans, getting all dressed up in the most excellent disguise he'd ever seen, complete a new identity and a passport. Though they had not traveled together, because Zurie felt it was too risky, they had still been together in purpose and that had made all the difference.

They had both journeyed over to set up their accounts. Once the money had been in placed in brand new family trusts, it was easy to make the Real Estate purchases. It went like clockwork, smooth and easy and painless. Money can do some amazing things when you have a lot of it, Zurie often mused.

The only identification that was associated with any of the properties that he had bought here were just a series of numbers. Untraceable numbers that only he had possession of now. The chain with the key, and a small metal disk, that held those numbers, was pulled out from underneath his sweater. Shivers raced up his spine as he slid the key into the lock heard the click as it opened. The taxi driver had already unloaded his luggage, so Zurie paid him quickly, wanting to be alone now.

After dragging everything inside, he left the pile of suitcases and bags in the entryway. He would deal with them later, right now he wanted to explore his new world. Piece by piece, he discarded his disguise as he moved through the house. A mustache here, a wig there. Horn rimmed glasses ended up on the elegant side table in the hall. The hat and oversized coat landed on the ceramic tile floor as he passed through the kitchen to the terrace at the back of the house. By the time he reached the doors, Zurie had emerged as himself. Vasya was gone, and so was the life he had led.

Trading solitude for popularity, and books for an endless amount of friends, Zurie knew he could be content alone here for a very long time to come. The old stone balustrade of the balcony was smooth under his hands as he took in the view of the mountains that surrounded him. If he had to get lost somewhere, he reasoned, it might as well be in a place like this. Maybe it wasn't the view he'd had in DC, but he could definitely get used to it.

Now that he had explored his home, his first order of business was to try out the small safes hidden throughout the property. Zurie pulled one of the big suitcases into the den. It was an amazing room, three of the walls were lined with bookshelves, the wood gleaming with years of polishing. Since the house had come furnished, thanks to the trust fund that had controlled it for decades, every shelf was filled with leather bound books.

As he rolled back the oriental carpet to reveal the first safe, set into the floor, Zurie marveled at the clever way this country had of trading assets. Buying property would have been very difficult, if not impossible for a foreigner such as Zurie or Ben. But the establishment of family trusts, was another thing entirely. All Real Estate transactions were passed through the trust and their numbered accounts, leaving the identity of the buyer completely anonymous. All anyone cared about, it seemed, was that the wonderful old properties were passed on to someone who could, and would take care of them.

The code for the safe had been reset for Zurie. It took only a minute to open the door so that he could take a look inside. As expected, it was a simple fire-resistant steel box fit with several waterproof containers for valuables. Humming as he worked, Zurie removed the containers and set them aside with their lids open. He then opened the suitcase. All of the contents were pushed aside so that he could get to the secret compartments in both the top and the bottom.

He had been preparing for this for a year now. The day the chef had disappeared he had decided that it was time for him to plan his own retirement. Siphoning off cash from his accounts had taken time, but now he had nearly one million dollars worth of the universally accepted Swiss francs hidden in the compartments of this suitcase alone. More cash was in the other luggage as well. Zurie swiftly transferred the bundles of cash to the containers. Once he was done, he closed the lid securely and replaced the rug.

Repeating the process in the bedroom, with the safe behind the painting that looked like a Monet, and then in the large walk-in safe that had been installed behind the pantry in the kitchen, he hid the money that he had earned over the past two decades. All told, he had accumulated over four million dollars, transferring them into the francs so that he could live here without leaving a paper trail for anyone to find.

Zurie hoped that the chef had done the same thing a year ago. That thought had made him happy all year long. In fact it had been his inspiration the whole time too. Giving him the hope that he needed to believe that he could sever ties and disappear when he was ready.

The risk had been great. Though he had never been the conventional spy, in any sense of the word, he had always known what the end game would be. Could be, if he did not do what he needed to, to change the outcome. That the chef had taken a chance, and ended his 'career' on his own terms, had inspired Zurie to make his plans to do the same.

The blood in his DC apartment was left there to throw off not only the police who investigated his disappearance, but the men who would be charged with implementing the company's 'retirement' plan. An investigation had created the cushion of time that he had needed to leave the country and assume another identity.

As far as Zurie knew, the investigation was still going on, and the longer Vasya's potential kidnapping or death was in the news, the more time he had to establish his new persona. He would set up his computer and catch up on the latest news in a little while.

For now, he was watching the sun set over the ridges of the snow capped mountains. A spectacular sight that almost left him speechless. The golden glow reflected off of the frost of his glass as a myriad of emotions played through his mind and heart. It all felt so perfect.

Zurie had been sitting on the terrace for over an hour now basking in knowledge that he had gotten away with his biggest con ever. He was alone, but he was himself again and he felt like celebrating. Lifting his glass to the sky, he thought about what it had taken for him to get here. He nodded his head in a tribute to the chef, where ever he was. "Za Vas!" he said. To you!

. .oOo.

Silence ruled the cabin as the plane taxied down the runway to meet with the vans that would take them to Trenton. It had been decided somewhere between Kinkaid's presentation of the facts about Ellis as he knew them, and Ranger's question session of said facts, that it would be best to keep the team together at RangeMan rather than to go into DC. There were too many variables that were unknown with Ellis in the picture.

Most of them readily agreed that if and when Ellis showed his face, they would confront him as a group. So far that was as much of a plan as they had. Add the fact that they would have all the equipment that they would need at their disposal, to continue their search of whoever it was that killed Ben, would be the best set up that they could hope for.

Now that cells phones were back on, Ranger looked around to see that nearly everyone had their phones in their hands, sending the necessary texts as wives and families were being informed of their change in circumstances. He had his phone in his hand too, having just sent Stephanie a message of his own.

There was one person however who was just sitting and staring off into space. His arm had dropped down by his side, his phone just being held loosely in his fingers. Ranger moved over to sit in the seat next to Tank. He did not have to ask, he didn't say a single word.

"I'm a bigger idiot than I give myself credit for," Tank said, his voice a low rumble. "In the rush to leave, I didn't even ask Nia for her number."

Tank held up his phone "All I can find is the number for the operations building," he said,

"Did you call?" Ranger asked.

"Yeah, I called," Tank said. "She's off duty, won't be back until tomorrow."

"Then, you call her tomorrow," Ranger answered, giving him a slap on his shoulder as he got up. He felt for his friend. Not finding Nia to talk to right now, was just the beginning. It was not going to be easy to try and have a long distance thing going. He was afraid that Tank was going to be having these kinds of disappointing experiences frequently in the future. But he did not say a word, after all, who was he to give out advice about relationships.

By the time the plane came to a stop, the men were lined up with their packs ready. The moment the door opened, they were out and moving quickly to the waiting vehicles. No one expected any trouble, not here. But it would have gone against all their training if they weren't prepared for the worst at any given moment.

The next few minutes passed quickly and without incident. Everyone settled in for the ride to Trenton. Once again, it was nearly silent, each of the men lost in their own thoughts. The tension was nearly palpable, as they were all acutely aware that they had not found what they had been looking for yet. Chef's killer was still out there. All that would change before they made it to RangeMan.

. .oOo.

The buzz in her pocket let Stephanie know that another message had been delivered to her phone. Wasting no time, she opened it and read the words silently. This time Ranger was just letting her know that they were back, but she already knew that. The barely noticeable tingling at the back of her neck had started, and she knew that he was getting closer.

For a moment, she just closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation. This connection with Ranger was one of the things that she always missed so much when he was gone. It was also one of the things that had convinced her that they had a connection unlike anything she had ever felt with anyone else.

At first all of her thoughts were about how it was going to feel when Ranger got back, wondering if they were going to get the chance to have the talk they had been needing for so long. Anticipation of telling him what she had been holding back for too long had her heart racing.

Slowly, however, reality started to sink in. Preparations were going on to house the team that was coming here with him. This was not over, not by a long shot, and she tried not to be frustrated about that. They were probably not going to have private time together any time soon. So she switched gears.

There was a lot of information that Ranger had not been given yet. Now that they were back in range, she was going to have to let him know what they had been finding out since Aban got here. She dialed his number and put her phone up to her ear. She was about to be the bearer of bad news again, and her stomach clenched in fear. But it would not stop her, because now she realized that no matter how bad the news could be, it was always better to hear it from a friend.

. .oOo.


	13. Chapter 13

. .oOo.

Chapter 13

Nick sat outside of Melissa's house. He could see her shadowy form moving from room to room. Two weeks ago, they had both been on top of the world. They had been so happy. Nick squeezed his eyes closed at that thought. The word happy may have had a different meaning for him than it had for Melissa. She _was_ happy, for her that meant money. With thousands of dollars, as an advance for her book, from the publishing company, and the promise of so much more to come, she was certainly happy.

For him, happy meant that he was one step closer to bringing down the people he saw as responsible for him being unhappy for so long. The book would have brought a whole bunch of hurt for them and that was going to make him very happy. But that had all ended a few days ago when the printing of the book was abruptly terminated.

Neither one of them had taken that news very well, and Nick knew that Melissa had been devastated. Still he sat, unable or unwilling to make the effort to go and talk to her. He had not spoken to her since hearing about the publishers decision. She was probably mad at him. That was one really good reason to stay away from her. He hated it when she got all pissed off. She was mean, said mean things. Chef had loved her. Most of the time, lately, Nick couldn't figure out why.

It had driven him crazy for so long. He had seen her first, it was a fact, the truth. She was meant to be with him. That had been his plan. Nick always had big plans. That was what he did, he made plans and then other people ruined them. Chef had ruined his plans for Melissa. For years he had hated him for that.

The pressure in his chest expanded, thoughts like this always made him feel this way. Nick tried to take a deep breath, tried to push the pain out, but he couldn't, and panic started to set in. Resting his head on the steering wheel, he concentrated on the short, shallow breaths that he used to calm himself down at times like these.

Once he could think again, Nick started the car and pulled away from the curb. Any thoughts of Melissa were gone. She was no longer part of his plans, and one day he would wonder how that had happened so quickly. For so long he had been obsessed with her, had wanted her. He had followed her, from a distance, living in the same city made that easy enough to do.

Fate had intervened one day, bringing her back into his life in a way that he could not ignore. After the injury that he had received during his last mission, Nick had been taken off of the active list. The general had arranged a position for him in the benefits office. In an office. He was supposed to be grateful about that. It had nearly killed him, confined by four walls day after day, dealing with piles of paper that never seemed to end.

Then it happened, the miracle that he had wished for. A file, with a name he recognized, ended up on his desk. The request to remove the ex-wife from the health and life insurance policies of Ben Davron was just the thing to put Melissa right in the middle of some new plans.

Nick had pulled the file and started working on it. There was always so much paperwork. Form after form was copied, filed and sent through to the proper channels. After everything was done, Nick had made a copy of completed file for himself and started working on his plan.

Nearly a year ago now, another trip out to a familiar neighborhood had confirmed what Nick had already known. He had spent enough time outside of the Davron house to know that Ben was gone, and seeing that it was true sent his emotions soaring. His plan was in motion and he nearly flew up to the door, taking the front steps in one huge jump.

Much to his delight, Melissa recognized him. In fact, she threw her arms around his neck and invited him to come in so that they could visit, catch up with each other. The rest was so easy after that. It never occurred to him that he was getting Melissa was on the re-bound after ending her relationship with Ben. Or that she was trying to find someone to replace him as quickly as possible. It wouldn't have mattered, Nick wanted her, had always wanted her, and now he had a plan for her.

He had a plan for Ben too. Nick had hated him for so long. Ben had not only taken Melissa away from him, he had also taken his place on the Ranger team after Nick had been dropped from the program. Yes, Ben was a good place to start, but his ultimate revenge would include all of them. From the general who was supposed to have secured his place on the team, to each of the men who had ended up on it.

It had been years since all of that had happened. Nick was a patient man when it came to finding the perfect revenge. He had filled his mind with it day after day. Waiting for just the right way to carry it out. He knew it had all worked out like it was supposed to when he had first seen Ben's file.

The file that he had so carefully saved was brought out after what Nick determined was a safe lapse of time. He easily reinstated the benefits for Melissa. He had promised her that he would. For him, it was just a good way to win her favor and lead her into the next phase of his plan. He probably didn't even need to do it, but it seemed like such a nice touch. And his plans always had a certain amount of panache.

With the health insurance file, Nick had also sent in the paperwork for an insurance policy. This, however, he would not be telling Melissa about. One day, the beneficiary of this policy would receive a huge chunk of change. Since it was his job to, Nick knew all of the forms that were needed to have a power of attorney included. That it just so happened that he would hold that power was his own little secret. Melissa would never think to ask about that. She would never even need to know about the policy. Nick just loved to have some special perks imbedded into all of his plans.

With his hands deliberately placed on the steering wheel, in the 9 and 12 positions, Nick started to put a lot of distance between him and the woman he had loved for so long. He may have forgotten Melissa, but his focus on the Ranger team, that had been stolen away from him, was foremost in his mind. He was still smarting from the shock and humiliation of the publisher telling him that they were no longer interested in the book he had worked so hard on. When he had pushed, and he had pushed hard, for them to give him a valid reason for dropping the project, they had told him outright.

National security reasons were what prohibited them from publishing the book. What they had hoped could be some nice healthy controversy, that would sell the book, turned out to be a lot of intel that could not be divulged. There was nothing that they could do to change that. Nothing that he could do either.

His plan had been so perfect. But now with Ben being gone for so long, and the book taken away from him, he was going to have to find another way, a new plan to make them all feel the pain that he had. In his mind it was only fair. Now he had to think.

"Let's start with the general," Nick said out loud. His mind took him back to the days before the rangers training was to begin. General Kinkaid was 'Uncle Doug' to Nick at that time. An old friend of his father's who had served in the military with him. More than friends, they had always said. Brothers. And so it seemed to Nick and his sister. Nick had looked up to his 'Uncle' so much he had wanted to be just like him. That was the reason that he had joined the army right out of high school.

Back then Nick had wanted nothing more than to make his father happy, proud. And that, it seemed, could only be accomplished by joining the army. He had thrown himself into it, being the best of the best. But his father was so hard to please. So too, was Uncle Doug.

When Nick decided that he would go after a spot in the Army Rangers, he was sure that he would please them. And he did, for a while. When talking to his recruiter, he specifically asked for an option 40 contract, to let them all know that it was his goal to join the 75th Ranger Regiment. He worked hard, and immediately chose and developed his military occupational specialty, becoming an ammunition specialist.

Oh, and they had been so proud, his father and the general. Up until they weren't. When he started ranger school, they were full of smiles and pats on the back for him. Then one day, halfway through the training, everything seemed to change. Good ol Kinkaid came to talk to him, bawled him out, asked him if he still wanted to be a ranger. Told him to control his temper. Nick was baffled, he was working hard, training was damn hard, but he didn't think that he was anymore apt to get angry than any of the other guys.

When the general came again, to have another little talk, Nick had been upset. Again he tried to explain that he was fine, that he was not any different that anyone else going through that intense training.

Of course, now he could admit that some of that time was a blur in his mind, but what Nick remembered was that suddenly he was out. It was over, and they assigned him somewhere else. His father, his 'uncle' were disappointed. He knew they were. Well, to hell with them, he had thought, so was he. Disappointed and confused. He was no different than anyone else, he kept saying that to himself. No different.

The night he had left, he avoided both of them. He had nothing to say to the two men who he had been counting on to help him with his plan. They had always been there for him. Why had they let him down now? Nick took off and found a bar to hide away in. He had intended to get drunk enough to forget it all. But before he had had more than two drinks, Nick had seen her.

Melissa had walked through the door. Knowing that all of the guys there had seen her too, Nick wasted no time in moving over to her. She accepted his invitation to have a drink with him, and they had spent the rest of the evening together.

By the time he said goodbye to Melissa Price that night, Nick had made a new plan. For a while he forgot about his humiliation of being thrown out of the rangers training. All he could think of was Melissa. She wanted a good life and she had not been shy to tell him so. Well, he was fine with that, and ready to give it to her.

Of course that meant that he had to take a new look at his career. Being in the military was not enough, and besides, Nick was angry at his father, at the general. He dropped the army and searched out another way to use his skills. And he found it, with an unknown agency who was willing to pay well for the specialized work that they needed done. Covert ops, it was the perfect thing. He left immediately on his first assignment.

It had been a long eight months before he got back. By the time he found Melissa again, she was married to Ben Davron. Hatred for Ben started on that day. Adding on to it, Nick hated everyone of the men who had been in that training group. He hated his father and he hated General Douglas Kinkaid.

It was easy to change his plan again. This time to find a way to hit them where it would hurt the most. Nick was a patient man. He gave a lot of thought to this. Between the missions that he was sent on, he tried to come up with the perfect idea. And then he got hurt. Plans had to change again. He could wait.

"Now," Nick said, again out loud. "Time to pay Uncle Doug a visit." He started laughing. The office job, that he had hated so much, had turned out to be the best thing ever. With access to very personal files, Nick had been able to find the information he needed to keep track of the general, of the guys in the team. All his patience had paid off.

He knew where they had gone, and with a few inquiries, he knew that they were on their way back. He would be ready for them. It was all going according to plan, and he had everything he needed in the trunk of his car.

. .oOo.

The Philidelphia airport had been able to accommodate the change in flight plans when Kinkaid decided that their destination needed to be Ranger's place. He was silent as they started the short drive toward RangeMan. He was nervous, not knowing what Nick could be capable of now that his big plans had been disrupted. Nick was a sick man, they had tried to get him the help he needed, but not even the meds they had prescribed for him could change the fact that he had severe problems.

Ranger looked at him and he knew that it had been hard on him to admit to the team that he had made a mistake. But as he saw it, the general had done what he thought best, with the information that he'd had at the time. He had truly cared about Nick.

Nick Ellis had been a good kid, and Kinkaid had known him for most of his life. It had been flattering to see that he wanted to follow in his footsteps, to be one of the best of the best. How could he not be proud? By the time the symptoms became obvious, Nick had convinced everyone that he could handle it.

It was called a borderline personality disorder. But no one wanted to say that out loud. Medication took care of it, that was what they were told. And it did. Most of the time. However, under great amounts of stress, all bets were off. Nobody could predict how the hormone imbalance would affect him. Most of the time it manifested itself in angry outbursts. Unpleasant, but not particularly problematic, so they still believed that he would be fine.

If he would just take the medications, he would be okay. They had believed that. Kinkaid came to talk to him about it several times during the ranger training. While there was nothing wrong with needing medications, Nick's dad, with Kinkaid's support, wanted to keep it secret.

Maybe that had been too hard on Nick. The very thing he needed the meds for could have been what made him not want to take them. Kinkaid admitted today that his first mistake was thinking that it was not as dangerous as it was. His next mistake made Nick hate him, and that had been the hardest thing to admit to his men today.

When he took Nick out of the program, he sighted medical reasons, but he did not specify that he had been dealing with a mental disorder. It had been to protect Nick, to protect his father. And so the information never went on Nick's permanent record. Without that information, Nick remained eligible for other teams, other opportunities that would end up damaging him further. Somehow, Kinkaid knew that it was a no win situation as far as Nick was concerned. If he told, Nick would hate him for destroying his chances at a military career. But by saying nothing, Nick was holding it against him that he had gone on to get hurt because he did get to have the career he wanted. No, he couldn't win.

Kinkaid had had to live with this guilt for such a long time. Ranger could see that it had taken so much out of him to finally let the secret out. As soon as they got to RangeMan, he intended to enlist Ella's help to get the general to a place where he could rest.

But first they would have some items of business to take care of. The safety of his team was on the top of that list. Ranger was going through all the things he needed to do when they got back. He turned and leaned over to say something to Tank when he felt it.

He looked around, by the looks on their faces, the other men had felt it too. It was getting dark now, so it was hard to see if there was something happening in the other van too. Ranger got his phone out and called over to Chandler. He had been a demolitions expert, and Ranger needed his take on this.

"IED," Chandler said when he answered. "Small ones, someone has booby trapped the area."

Ranger nodded, they were almost a block away from his building. And someone was waiting for them. The next call that went out, was to Cal. Another blast rocked the van this time, and Ranger almost dropped his phone.

"Ranger?" he heard Cal say as he got the phone back up to his ear.

"We need a team to come find the booby traps on Parker Ave between Tenth and Hawthorne. We are under attack."

"Can you stay where you are?" Cal asked as he motioned to Lester and Woody.

"Negative," Ranger replied. "We will chance it to the corner and turn there. But we've got to get these things off the street." After just a small hesitation, he added, "Oh, and we need to find the guy doing this."

"Ellis," they both said at the same time. He was here, and they knew it.

. .oOo.


	14. Chapter 14

. .oOo.

Chapter 14

 _Washington DC. Now._

Her shift was scheduled to start in just an hour. Sarah Blanton stared at herself in the mirror, she had a choice to make. Glancing down at her uniform, she absently smoothed out a nonexistent wrinkle on her skirt. For the first time, the idea of showing up at the White House tonight actually scared her to death.

Her heart started to pound. How she wished that she could talk to Vasya. He would know exactly what to tell her about the group that had approached her today. His warning was still echoing in her brain, he had told her to get out of this business. Get as far away as she could. Somehow, at the time, she just couldn't understand why he was saying those things.

All they wanted was what he himself had wanted from her. Secrets, overheard information. Sarah tried to shrug off the apprehension that she felt, wasn't that exactly what she had been doing for a year now? For him? But she knew that this was nothing like what she had done for Vasya.

She met her eyes in the mirror and shook her head. She knew the answer, Vasya had told her to run. He knew it would happen, and he'd told her to get out before anyone could get to her. Why didn't she listen? Why didn't he let her go with him?

When he told her goodbye yesterday, her heart had broken. After all this time did he really not know how she felt? They had shared a drink, nearly frozen vodka, his favorite. Sarah wasn't actually a drinker, but had she shared this precious time with him, if only in an effort to prolong their final moments together. She had taken his hand in hers, tempted to hold on to him and never let him go. He had kissed her lips, so lightly it had almost been a whisper as he pulled away. Then he was gone.

Tears started now, a steady stream of pain and sorrow. First thing this morning she had sent him a text. "Meet me," it had said, but he had never answered. All morning she had held that stupid phone in her hands, wishing for the text that would tell her where he would be. It never came.

But she had had some visitors. Dark men with middle eastern accents knocked on her door, but they did not wait for her to answer it. They were inside of her home, telling her that she was to work with them. Of course she would be compensated, they told her, as if that was all that mattered.

What did she care of that now? Vasya had paid her well too, but she had not been working for the money. Again she wondered why he had never figured out that she had only been doing any of this because of him. So that she could be with him.

Once they had said what they had come to say, they had left her, alone and terrified. There was no option, she did what they said, or this would be the last night that she would be alive. Their message had been perfectly clear, no matter how heavy the accents had been. She lifted a trembling hand to her lips, trying to settle her nerves. She hated being so alone. Sure she had friends, her family that she could have called. But what could she have told them? they did not know the true nature of her job. No, the only person that she wanted to be with right now was Vasya.

As if thinking of him brought his name to her ears, Sarah could swear she heard someone saying Vasya. It was too unique of a name to just ignore and she ran into the other room where she had left the television set on.

His picture was on the screen, the words below it said that Vasya Kostenka was missing. Foul play was suspected because of the mess that had been found at his apartment. Vasya was dead, at least that is what they were speculating after finding his blood on the scene.

Suddenly her legs gave out on her and Sarah crumpled down onto the floor. How could she believe these reports, he was gone, yes, but he couldn't be dead. Could he? Her broken heart shattered into a million pieces. He was gone, dead, and only last night she had wanted so much to run away with him. Why hadn't she said anything? Why didn't she tell him how she felt? She had waited and now it was forever too late.

Slowly, Sarah forced herself to get up. She would be going into work tonight. Not sure what was going to happen, but she did know one thing. No matter what, this would be the last time she ever set foot in the white house. Without Vasya, there was nothing left for her here. There was nothing left for her anywhere. Suddenly the thought occurred to her, they would be doing her a favor if they followed through with their threats. She had no reason to live, not without the only man she had ever loved.

. .oOo.

Footsteps rushed past in the hallway outside the door. Still in Ranger's office, Stephanie was aware of the sounds around her. She knew what was going on, Ranger and Tank were bringing the whole team here. Ella was busy ordering the guys around as they figured out a way to accommodate all of them.

Stephanie could hear Ella's voice as she stocked the break room down the hall. All of it registered somewhere deep inside her brain, but her focus was on the screen in front of her. It was taking her complete concentration to dig through the files that she had found on this Nick Ellis person. Unlike Ben Davron, Nick was not well liked by anyone who had anything to say about him. This time, she was glad it was not another good friend that she was finding the dirt on.

Cal and Lester had left long ago, taking Aban with them. Hopefully he was getting some rest, she thought. When Ranger got home, he was going to want to talk to him. If rest was to be had, the time was now. Not that she needed any herself, not at all. In fact she had no intention of taking even a second away from her search on Nick Ellis.

From the looks of their faces, and the comments that she had passed on to Ranger, Cal and Lester both knew that this guy could mean trouble. So Stephanie was determined to trace him and find his secrets before he could hurt anyone. She just didn't know how long she had before he could show up, there was no way that he did not know where to find Ranger. She could see that with his job, he had had access to personal information about every member of Ranger's team. What he would do with it, she didn't know. Until she knew more about him, she could only guess and she didn't like the scenes that came into her head.

As she was prone to do, she started at the beginning, opening up records from as early in his life as she could find. At first she could not understand how he had become such a threat. The history that she was reading had shown him as a bright kid, always at the top of his class, right into high school. A few disciplinary notes were included before he graduated, but they were the kind of boys will be boys types of things.

On to his military records. Ellis had followed his father's footsteps by enlisting. He appeared to work hard, studying for several specialties along the way including both ammunition and weapons for his MOS. He needed those military operational specialties to even be considered for rangers school and that was his goal. To be truthful, Stephanie was pretty impressed with his record so far.

Things changed when he entered the training he had worked so hard for. Ranger school was only halfway over when he started getting into trouble. Anger management things, it looked like. A couple of warnings were included in his records, and then suddenly, they let him go.

Now it was getting harder to follow his trail. Once Ellis left the training, he branched out, became involved in what Stephanie could only assume were some of those secret, we don't exist kinds of agencies. Their records were not readily available, and even with her super fancy search programs,she was not getting a very complete picture. Not until there was an overlap between the activities of two of these agencies.

With great interest, Stephanie read the notes from Ranger's team. It seemed that the Ellis and his covert team had run into some problems on an assignment. Though the details could not be included, top secret and all, it did say that Ranger's team had been called in to bail them out and extract them from the site they had become trapped in. Both teams had been operating in the same hemisphere. Since Ranger was the only one close enough to get to them quick enough to help finish the mission and then get Ellis and his team out, he got the job.

From all accounts, it had been handled very discreetly, and no further incidents hampered the success of the assignments for either team. All of it had been complicated by the injuries that Ellis and another man on his team had sustained. It took some doing to get them out safely, and because of that, commendation recommendations and all kinds of citations were piled on top of Ranger and his team.

Stephanie didn't have to wonder how Ellis had felt about that whole affair. A single page in the files was from a psychologist who Ellis had been ordered to spend time with after the incident. He may have recovered from the broken bones and knife wounds. But they had left scars. Not only on his body, but more importantly, in his mind. Though it was Ranger who saved him, Ellis seemed to have nothing but hate and anger for him. She correctly surmised that having to have one of the rangers, from the very training that he'd had to leave, come to his rescue, must have left him mortified.

According to the records, Ellis had set out to make a name for himself. He was tougher, smarter, meaner than any of the others on his team. That made him better, in his mind. He was, like Ranger, known to have good instincts. But his anger and irrational behavior was a constant problem.

Interestingly, it was general Kinkaid that had intervened after the whole deal. With his obvious influence, Ellis was given a job. A safe job, one that required that he was alone at a desk the majority of every work day. On paper, Stephanie agreed that it looked like an ideal solution. But knowing the guys at RangeMan the way she did, she was pretty sure that for an active tough guy, being confined to a desk after having been the super hero figure on his missions must have been a huge blow.

All of the intel agreed with that assessment. Stephanie shut down the programs. She was not going to find the answers that she was looking for in any file. She wanted to know what Ellis had to do with Ben and his ex-wife Melissa. Why did Cal and Lester automatically assume that the guy was going to cause trouble. What would Ranger have to say about him?

She sat back in his chair, closing her eyes and breathing in the subtle scent surrounding her. Leather, Bvlgari and Ranger. Her breath hitched and she folded her arms around her shoulders in a hug. She missed him so much, it hurt.

That aching feeling in her gut was back. When Ranger got back she was going to have to talk tell him about Chef. This time she would be telling him that his friend had always had absolute faith in him. Aban had repeated Ben's last words, and they still tugged at her heart and made her so sad. These were the words that she had to tell Ranger. What was it going to do to him to hear them? She knew it was going to be so hard for both of them. But she was determined that she would be strong enough to be his support when he needed it.

Prickles started on the base of her neck and spread up to her scalp. He was getting so close, she couldn't wait to see him. She allowed images of him to flood her mind. Emotions poured over her. Minutes now, she hoped, and he would be in her arms.

. .oOo.

Mahir was huddled in the corner of the warehouse office, just outside of the small, dim circle of light from the dented lamp on the desk. It seemed that their business was so often conducted in dirty dark places like this, and he was beginning to hate it with his whole being.

He deliberately kept as far back as he could, he did not want to be seen, wished that he was not there at all. Everything was different without Aban. This surprised Mahir. At first, he had been ashamed for his friend. Even a bit angry that he would betray the men, the cause that they had come to fight for. But from the moment he had pushed a body out of a plane, Mahir had felt so sick inside. Yes, he had been told to do it, that is what he told himself. And he had only followed orders, isn't that what he was so good at, doing exactly what he was told, even if he did not feel it was right.

What kind of man does that make me, he wondered. It certainly was not what Aban had proven to be. Now it was himself that Mahir was ashamed of. Still, he cowered under the rule of his leaders. How could he leave, he knew what they did to anyone who defied them. The chef had been proof of that, and the way they had threatened that poor girl today confirmed it. Worst of all, he knew what they had set out to do to Aban. He wanted to weep at the knowledge that the assassins had killed him.

Suddenly, Mahir became aware of the discussion that they were having around the desk. Angry voices drew his attention. Heated words, and enraged looks told Mahir that all was not okay. He listened to them and hid the smile that threatened to creep to his lips.

The men, the assassins were not back. Their last message was that they had caught up with Aban. He had led them to Trenton. Nobody was happy about that. There had been silence since they had arrived there. The assumption was that they had finished their work, Aban was dead and the men were on their way back to DC.

But the single phone call that they had been allowed, after being processed into the city jail, told another story entirely. The call was short and not many details were given, but they did say that Aban was alive. With a disgust mixed with wonder, they said that whoever it was that Aban had gone to see had returned fire, with a ferocity that they had never seen before. The fight continued until they were surrounded, apprehended and turned over to the police. There was not much more to say, even if they had had the time.

The men were furious, Mahir silently watched. His leaders were more than upset, they were frantic. He knew that the capture and detention of any of them was a very bad thing. All this time they had been operating as a hidden cell, taking precautions at every moment. Their job, pure and simple, was to remain anonymous as they gathered intel and spread their propaganda. Without question, they were now going to have to relocate again. This time, Mahir wondered if he could get lost in the shuffle and get away like Aban had.

His mind had been so occupied with these thoughts, he had missed the change in the discussion. The room had grown quiet and suddenly Mahir could feel all eyes looking at him through the darkness.

"You were a friend of Aban, no?" someone asked him.

Mahir froze. "Yes, he was my friend when we first came," he said cautiously. What could he say? He could not deny it because they all knew that they had come into the group together. He would keep it as close to the truth as possible, he couldn't let them know that he was having these ideas to run away.

His fears rose in his throat as was now circled by the men, still with angry looks on their faces.

. .oOo.

RangeMan was on high alert. Cal sent out a team to help Ranger, and he stayed to monitor things at the building. Hector was with him going through security tapes from all of the cameras on both sides of the building. If Nick Ellis had come anywhere near the building, they would see it.

Everyone had earpieces in place, but for now, they were to remain silent. Without knowing what kind of equipment Ellis had access to, they were not going to risk giving their position away if he happened to be listening in. All of the rangemen were well aware, by now, that he had been an operative in missions much like theirs, so they had to recognize and respect that he could have skills like theirs.

It was all of the unknown elements about this that put everyone not only on alert, but kept them on edge as well. Coming so soon after the pain of finding Chef's body, only added to the tension that was building.

Woody led the men down Hayward Street toward the location that Ranger had given them. Some of the guys were in stealth mode, if anyone was watching, they would not know that they were there, this gave them an advantage that they would need if they did meet up with the person they were looking for.

Tense seconds passed, they should see the vans turning the corner any time now. Ranger had said that even with the booby traps, they needed to keep going. Headlights announced their approach, and Woody noticed that they were driving so close to the sidewalk, they were almost right on it. A smart move, since the IEDs had been purposefully placed to be right under vehicles traveling on the road. And because of that maneuver, no more of the devices had detonated.

So far they had removed a couple dozen of the small devices. Enough of them to see that they had been deliberately designed to annoy, but they were not intended to kill. The fact that they were so sophisticated was an indication that it was Ellis that had put them here. His expertise with explosives showed in each one of them.

By the time he saw the van come around the corner, Woody was puzzled. What were Ellis's intentions? Why had he come here just to sabotage the area with things that would only perturb them? It was true that Woody did not know him, had not really heard all that much about him since joining RangeMan. So he had no way of understanding what could be in this man's head.

His men passed by the vans, still gathering the devices, and cleaning up the ones that had detonated. They were going to keep this contained for the time being, no cops for now, so all of the evidence had to be removed. Within five minutes, that objective had been met, and all of the men converged on the parking structure at the back of the RangeMan building. It was surprisingly quiet, something that all of them had noticed, and put them further on edge.

The general watched carefully as they advanced, getting nearer to the security gate. He too was confused by the mild attack. He knew that Nick was capable of so much more than this. Not that he wasn't relieved that Nick had chosen to irritate rather than kill, but he could not figure out why.

Woody moved quickly to activate the arm of the gate to allow the vans to pass into the garage. He had just punched the code into the small keypad when all hell broke loose. A wall of fire burst up around him. He rolled away from it, slapping out patches of fire on his clothes.

Gunfire whizzed above his head, the shots coming from all directions. It made no sense, one man could not be making all of these shots. Keeping low and his head down, he ran to get out of the shower of bullets. An arm grabbed him and pulled him out of the chaos. Woody looked up and smiled at Chet.

They whipped their heads around at the sound of another explosion. More fire shot up surrounding the van in the driveway.

A voice behind them said "Oh Shit!" Woody couldn't agree more.

. .oOo.


	15. Chapter 15

. .oOo.

Chapter 15

He was quite pleased with himself. Not bad for a spur of the moment attack. Nick took one last look at the slowly moving vans and left his hiding place to go find a new vantage point. The action that he was interested n was back at Ranger's place.

In spite of himself, Nick had to be impressed. Ranger had built himself a solid business. Jealousy reared its ugly head, and Nick swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat. While he had been shuffling papers, stuck in a dead end office job, the guys he had known so briefly, in that ranger's training, had been going on to much bigger and better things. Over the years, he'd heard all about them.

Now on the roof across the street from the big red brick building that housed Ranger's business, Ellis settled in to watch the show. He had not had long to set it up, but that did not worry him, he still had some amazing skills with guns and explosives. And he couldn't wait for Kinkaid to see what he had been missing out on since dumping him in that stupid office.

An unwelcome memory surfaced and brought another dark mood as he waited. Sometimes, it seemed, he could not keep these voices out of his head. Now he grimaced, he had pushed Melissa out of his mind, but she kept popping back in when he least expected it.

"Don't you do anything?" Melissa had said, her voice constantly getting on his nerves. "All we do is sit around when you get home from work, at least Ben had all those parties that he was always invited to."

Nick remembered this particular night very well. He'd thought of leaving her, he'd grown so tired of her complaining all the time. He had not responded to her criticism, or to the fact that she was throwing Ben in his face. In fact, he had been doing a pretty great job of ignoring her completely. But she would not shut up. Coming up behind him, she tried another tactic, putting her arms around his waist, she had laid her head on his shoulder and whispered in his ear.

"At least you don't sit around telling war stories all day," she'd said. "I like that about you. It seemed like I could never get Ben to shut up."

Slipping under his arm, Melissa had come around to face him. She smiled and kissed his chin. Nick had to hand it to her, she could be persuasive when she wanted to be. It was almost enough to bring back the reasons that he'd obsessed about her in the first place. Almost.

She continued her tirade about Ben and his stories. "Ranger always did this," she said in a mocking voice. "Demo did that..."

Her voice was droning on, he had almost stopped listening again, but that was when the idea had hit him. "Tell me," he said. "Tell me one of his stories, what did Ranger do?" Suddenly he was very interested in what she had to say.

"Oh, I don't know," she sputtered, "its not as if I really listened to any of it." But he pulled her over to sit down on the couch with him.

"Tell me," Nick repeated. "Try to remember."

Though Melissa had to be getting annoyed at him, she had stopped and given it some thought. She couldn't remember any of the details, but she could come up with a few basic outlines of the stories that Ben had told her.

Nick recognized the events that she was speaking of. As much as he had hated it, everyone in the other agencies had watched Kinkaid's team with some amount of admiration. They couldn't help but compare themselves to the rangers who seemed to be the best at everything. To some extent, Nick had heard about the missions she was talking about in Ben's stories.

The idea had been born in that moment. The only ones who never spoke of their exploits, except perhaps in private, were the guys in the rangers team itself. It was classified for the most part, that was one reason, but why did they need to brag, when all of the other operatives out there were doing it for them.

What better way to put them in a bad situation than to expose the bad and ugly parts of the missions in some innocently portrayed stories of bravery that were told by an ex-wife. It was brilliant, if he did say so himself. Personal account stories were becoming more and more in demand, the timing was perfect. He could get the interest of a publisher in no time, they were eager for this kind of thing.

He could leave now he thought and write it himself, but he dismissed that idea as quickly as it had come to him. Nick knew that he could not be the one who could get away with doing it, but Melissa, he was sure that she could. Of course, he had realized that he'd have to stay, she could never get it right without him, he would probably end up writing it all in some form of another. But it seemed like a small sacrifice to make, to get his revenge.

Ellis was crouched down in his hiding spot. That simmering anger now bubbling up in his chest. This memory only served to remind him that it had been Kinkaid, 'ol Uncle Doug who had wrecked everything for him. Again. Interfering with the publishers had made him look bad. Nick did not like feeling like an idiot. Kinkaid had to pay for that.

Just then, the fireworks started. They had triggered one of his fireballs. The effects were better than he had imagined. It shot straight up in the air a good ten feet. Nick felt a whoop wanting to be shouted at the top of his lungs, but he suppressed it, no sense in giving his location away.

He did gasp when that guy caught on fire, but he had to expect at least a bit of collateral damage. It's just too bad that it had not been Kinkaid or one of his precious rangers. That heat rose again in his gut, and Nick raised his rifle, aiming at the target near one of the vans. He squeezed the trigger, a smile gracing his lips when it hit and caused the next part of the show.

"Ricochet," he whispered as hundreds of bullets were set into motion.

And just for good measure, another explosion rocked the street below him. This time fire burst out all around the van. That would get them moving he thought, and sure enough, the men started spilling out of the side door. No one caught fire this time, much to his dismay, but he did take pleasure in watching all of the guys scrambling for cover inside of the garage.

The other van had turned around and headed away from the mayhem. Nick noticed that they did not go far, just enough to get out of his line of sight. But he assumed that the guys in that van would be finding their way into the building without getting involved with all the fun he had planned for them. It was a disappointing turn of events.

. .oOo.

Sarah was going to defy them, if they killed her then at least she would not have to live under their control, and without Vasya there did not seem to be any reason to do this spying thing anymore. If she wanted to be dramatic, she could say that without him there was no reason for her to go on at all. Actually, she thought, that was not dramatic, it was the truth. Just one more thing that she had never told Vasya before he disappeared. She felt a deep pain pierce her hear again. The agony of what might have been.

Now he was gone. Sarah lifted her head and started backing away from the employee's entrance. They could kill her now, for all she cared. She was not going in there. Her footsteps quickened, her lungs starting to burn as she broke out in a run.

"Hey there," a deep male voice yelled from behind her. Sarah did not pay heed, she needed to get as far from this place as she could. The plans for her immediate future were unclear, except for that one fact. "Halt!" the voice called out again.

Tears were in her eyes, and a side pain had nearly doubled her over before she was tackled down to the ground.

"What's your hurry?" this same voice said, Sarah detected the sarcasm, but had no time to respond before her hands were cuffed behind her and she was hauled to her feet. "Let's go," he said.

At this moment, Sarah had resigned herself to whatever fate this person had for her. Though she was cuffed, to make it look like a legitimate apprehension to any bystanders, this man had never identified himself as a cop. He had offered no explanation for why he had grabbed her. Not that she had expected an assassin to be very forthcoming with his victim.

Her head hung down, she was defeated and she knew it. The man had hold of her arm and was pushing her forward at a brisk pace. Sarah thought that she heard him mumbling something, words too low, too quiet to understand. It only added to the sense of foreboding that had seeped right down to her bones.

Her own thoughts were all over the place. One minute she had been willing to run, to risk dying to get away from a life that she knew would never have Vasya in it. The next, she felt such incredible waves of hope, maybe he was not dead. She had been listening to the news, no body had been found. That, it seemed was enough to make her believe that there was a chance that he was still alive somewhere. But, her thoughts came around again to the fact that Vasya had said goodbye and he had left her alone.

In the end, she was sure that she was going to die soon, so none of that mattered. As they approached a car that looked more like a rental than a police cruiser, Sarah felt him put a hand on her head to push it down as she slipped into the back seat. The touch was gentle, almost tender and her head jerked up to look at him.

He had a finger to his lips, "Shhhhh."

Tears filled her eyes and blurred her vision. The car door was slammed shut, and another one opened. She listened as he closed his door and started the engine.

"It won't be long now," he said, and Sarah knew, she could hear in his voice that he meant it.

. .oOo.

The elevator dinged its arrival. Even all the way down the hall, Stephanie could hear it and she came running. 'Ranger is back', it was her only thought. Well, maybe she thought of how it would feel with his arms around her too. It had been so long, she couldn't wait.

But instead of running into his arms, Stephanie stopped short when she noticed that it was Woody that had stumbled out, alone. The immediate disappointment that she felt soon turned to panic. His clothes were smudged with black soot and had been burned in spots that still had smoke rising from them.

Stephanie reached him at the same time that Ella did. She helped Ella get Woody seated, but then stood back a bit as she watched Ella's first aid skills at work.

"What happened?" Stephanie asked, hoping that he had not seen the disappointment in her face when she'd realized that it was not Ranger who had come out of the elevator.

Woody answered quickly, he had come to warn Cal and the rest of the men, and to get more help down to the garage level where Chet and Vince were trying to get the fires under control. Tapping his ear piece, that had apparently stopped working, Cal had joined them too. Within minutes, several guys were headed down the stairs, ready to deal with the fires.

Stephanie stood motionless for a moment, Cal had been barking out orders, Ella was still working on Woody, and everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Looking around, she saw Hector in front of a bank of screens. In an instant she was standing behind him, Stephanie could see that each of the eight monitors he was looking at showed parts of the RangeMan property. Security cameras, she guessed.

Hector was using a remote signal to move the cameras around to get broader views of what was happening outside of the garage. When she saw the fires, Stephanie gasped. Through the flames and smoke there were men jumping out of the van, keeping crouched over and low. She could not see their faces, couldn't find Ranger among them.

As she watched, the van burst into flame and exploded. Stephanie made another noise, and Hector was suddenly by her side, easing her into a chair. "No, no." he was murmuring softly, soothingly "It is going to be okay," Hector said to her.

As much as she didn't want to see the chaos that was happening, her eyes would not stop looking. They continued searching for him, determined to find Ranger. That is when she spotted something on one of the screens. Stephanie jumped up and pointed to it.

"Hector, what's that?" she asked breathlessly. Her finger was on the screen, and Hector immediately saw what she had found. At the same time that he was relaying the information to Cal, Hector got back on his controls and tried to zoom in on the roof across the street, to get a better look.

Stephanie's attention was back on the other screens. Frantic now, she had to find Ranger. She did not know which of the vans he had been riding in. But she had to believe that he had not been in the one that was now a bonfire. Wouldn't believe otherwise. She couldn't.

But where was he?

. .oOo.


	16. Chapter 16

. .oOo.

Chapter 16

Aban felt the slight vibrations, a concussion in the air, the evidence that all was not right. He had been safe here, had believed that and held on to that belief with all of his heart. After some food and rest, he had been feeling much better, but now the apprehension was back, squeezing his lungs so that he could not breathe.

People were running past the door of the room he was staying in. Aban peeked his head out, he was apprehensive, but finally he got up the courage to ask what was happening. The man who stopped looked at him thoughtfully.

"You should probably go to the comm room," he said. Aban nodded and followed him into the stair well. He noticed that this man, dressed in black like all the others, was heavily armed. Though he was wearing a jacket, Aban recognized the shape of a knife under his pants at his ankle, the bulge of a gun holster under his arm, and another gun tucked into his waistband. That he carried another gun in his hand, and a rifle slung over his shoulder meant that he was expecting trouble.

Aban was not sure he wanted to know what kind of trouble it was that had found them. His initial worry was that there were more terrorists out there trying to find him. And that would make this all his fault again.

That his only option for safety was to stay within the walls of this building, letting others protect him, made him suddenly feel like a coward. Maybe Mahir had been correct in his accusation that he was not strong enough to fight the real fight.

As they stepped onto the comm floor, Aban thought of his friend. Was he strong enough to survive? Did he actually still believe that the organization had any peaceful goals at all? Did that make a difference to Mahir? At one time he had thought that it did, but Mahir had changed so much since then. Still, it worried Aban that those same people that Mahir looked up to could take out their anger on him. After all, Aban had been his friend, if they thought that Mahir had any knowledge about where he would go to hide, Mahir could be in danger.

Now he had to push these thoughts away, the tension in the room was evident, and his worrying was not going to help anything. Aban listened carefully to what he could hear the men saying. There was indeed a huge amount of trouble that they were all worried about. Orders were shouted, men were moving quickly, and Stephanie was pacing back and forth in front of a wall of monitors. He headed over toward her. Maybe she could tell him more about what was happening. Maybe he could help.

As he neared, Stephanie looked up at him and gave him a preoccupied smile.

"Hi, Aban," she said. Indicating the chairs, she encouraged him to sit down. Aban did the same for her and that brought out a real smile on her face. Over the course of the next few minutes, talking to each other kept them both a lot more calm than they had been before. Even if they still did not have the answers that they would like, waiting became a bit more bearable.

Now they watched the action on the monitors, neither had words to speak as they watched the plumes of smoke, the sparks of gunshots, the men scrambling and keeping low to stay out of the line of fire. Every few minutes Stephanie blinked to keep the tears out of her eyes so that she could keep looking for Ranger. Still, she did not see him. Her heart was pounding, she hoped that he was safe, she hoped that he had received the information she had texted to him.

But most of all, she wished that he was here with her. The thought of throwing her arms around him and never letting go, was all that was keeping her going right now.

. .oOo.

Ranger had filed away all of the information that Stephanie texted him. It had been great. As soon as they had landed, the messages had started coming in, and he had been reading them during the drive in from the airport.

Inwardly he smiled, she always amazed him, her determination and tenacity showed how much she was willing to do anything that she could to protect him. He couldn't wait to see her and thank her personally, in private. He had to actually shake his head to get his mind to return to the task at hand.

But he could never get her far from his thoughts. Even now, he could hear her say, 'Knowledge is power Ranger'. Her big blue eyes had a sparkle in them when she would quote Rodriguez, adopting his motto and taking it very seriously. Especially, Ranger thought, when it came to him.

And now, she had given him another piece of the puzzle that could be instrumental in stopping Nick Ellis. So many times it came down to the smallest details. Stephanie excelled in digging up all kinds of minutiae. Not all of it was obviously helpful. But as her mantra stated, knowing was everything, you never could tell what was going to make the difference in the end.

Ironically the latest batch of facts, that she had discovered about Ellis, came from what happened on the assignment that had gone FUBAR for Nick and his team. Ranger remembered what he had found when they had been called in to get them out of there. Of the four guys on the team, three of them were injured badly enough that they wouldn't have been able to get out under their own steam. Ellis was one of them.

That they had been able to get themselves into hiding had been a miracle. As Ranger recalled, it had been Ellis that had performed some heroics to make that miracle happen. Ellis's mem had been eager to tell the guys on Ranger's team what he had done for them. Nick Ellis was somewhat of a paradox. One minute he was having anger management issues and the next he was being a hero.

And the hero, Ranger remembered, had been a huge mess. Slumped in a heap, he had been practically unconscious, blood seemed to be everywhere. Ranger had been the one to do some immediate first aid on him. It was hard to forget the gash on his neck, behind his right ear. Running from his ear down to his collar bone, it had looked ugly. They'd done what they could for him on site, but Ranger was pretty sure, at the time, that it was going to leave a scar.

Among other things, Stephanie was now telling him that it had left more than the scar that could be seen. His ear had been damaged, affecting his hearing, which was nearly nonexistent in his right ear. It would be impossible to know exactly how that bit of intel was going to come into play, but as Steph would say, he needed to be prepared by knowing everything that he could.

Getting home seemed to have been more complicated that any one had expected, and now that they were finally close enough to see the building, he almost started to relax. Moments later, however, Ranger's thought were interrupted when flames shot into the air at the entrance to the garage. It appeared that the small IEDs were not the only toys that Ellis had brought to play with tonight. When another explosion shook the van in front of them, he knew that Ellis meant business, and he was not willing to wait.

In her last message, Stephanie had mentioned that there had been something up on the roof of the building across from the garage. Now Ranger was going to use that detail to make his next move.

. .oOo.

The house was huge, and old, and loud. Zurie couldn't sleep that first night that he'd been here. There were too many noises that he could not identify. The moaning, and creaking, even scratching, kept him wandering around the place looking for the origin of each of the sounds that bothered him. All the while, he had been worried that he had been found, and that his end was at hand.

In the light of day, Zurie felt foolish about the fears of the night, but it did cause him to do some serious thinking. By the end of the day, sitting on the balcony with his glass of vodka, he came to the conclusion that left him speechless.

After all the planning, the sneaking, the plotting and the staging, his life was what he had always dreamed it could be. He lived in a paradise of his own choosing, but only after such a short time, he realized that it wasn't enough.

Zurie was lonely.

It had come somewhat as a shock to him. He had been surrounded by so many people for so many years, he thought that he wanted to be alone. But, as he now discovered, there was a huge difference in being alone, and in being lonely.

Over and over his thoughts had found their way back to Sarah. He wondered if she had taken his advice. There was a time when he had considered her to be shallow and greedy. Unlike the chef, she had not been forced into spying. No one was threatening her family in order to make her comply. In fact, now that he thought about it, he remembered that she had no family. Wasn't that one of the reasons that he had chosen to go after recruiting her? No emotional attachments to anyone, she could concentrate on her job without any interference.

It had never occurred to him that she had only chosen to do the job he'd asked of her because of him. At the time, he was all about pretend relationships with people. It was all that he had known, and he was so very good at his deceptions.

But now, now he was seeing that at some point he had stopped playacting with Sarah. There were times when being with her felt so real. And then there had been that kiss. That kiss, the soft tender touch of her lips, when he said goodbye, was still on his mind.

And that was when it hit him. Sarah meant something to him. He couldn't stop thinking about her. Wondering what it would be like if she was here with him. Wishing, Zurie actually found himself wishing that he could see her, talk to her, touch her again.

All of this thinking, introspection, was actually giving him a headache. Or did his head hurt from a lack of sleep, his thoughts were not exactly clear on that. It did not matter, he had seen the truth and for a time he'd had no idea what to do about it. He had made his plans, executed them perfectly. What could he do? Trying to find her could mean the end to all that he had worked for years to accomplish.

Unless he stayed missing and presumed dead, he could actually end up very dead. Was anything, was anyone, worth the risk? As much as he agonized over that question, his heart kept coming back to the one, the only thing that seemed to matter to him now.

He missed Sarah. Not having her in his life left him so empty. After days of torturing himself, Zurie came to a decision. And he started making new plans. It was simple, in the most complicated way possible. He would find her, and ask her if she felt the same way about him.

Simple.

. .oOo.

Vince got the call from Chet and rushed down the stairs to the garage. As soon as he pushed through the door, he saw Woody stumbling toward him. His friend was on fire and he rushed to help him smother the small flames. It sounded like a war zone, automatic weapons firing countless bullets in a crossfire pattern. He had never seen anything like it.

Pushing Woody into the elevator, he turned back to help Chet get to the vans. Both of them grabbed fire extinguishers and, keeping low, they made their way through the garage. They knew that they had to get the men into the building as quickly as possible. Under the cover of smoke, they moved as carefully as they could, stooped over so that they would not be seen, and to avoid the gunfire.

The rest of Woody's team was done with the clean up on the street and had almost reached RangeMan when they heard the explosions. They watched as Ranger jumped out of the van now heading away from the garage. He motioned to them to follow him. Silently they circled around the building across the street and found a way in, heading to the roof where Stephanie had spotted something unusual.

Hector had just confirmed that it did look like someone was up there. Three guesses who that might be, and the first two don't count, Ranger thought. He confirmed that thought when Hector let Ranger know that that someone looked armed. They could see him peeking over the edge, watching the action. Night had now enveloped them in darkness, making it impossible to get a good look at whoever was up there, but no one had any question about who it could be.

They could hear the small explosions continue as they made their way up to the roof access. All of their weapons came out as Ranger opened the door just a crack. He hesitated, trying to see in the dark. The security lights had been turned off up here, leaving only the moon to penetrate the shadows.

Looking carefully, he could see a figure crouched down near the edge of the roof overlooking the RangeMan garage. From the back, all he could make out was a man in a jacket with a hood. With that description, it could have been any body.

The show down there was apparently over now, leaving a quiet, eerie stillness. Smoke had drifted all the way up here and it added to the overall creepy effect. Muffled shouts could be heard from below as the men were still dealing with the aftermath in the garage. But for the most part Ranger realized that there was not enough noise anymore that could help to disguise their movements.

He backed up and motioned to the men, he wanted them to circle around to the left. From that angle they could sneak up on him, and practically be on top of him before he saw them. Of course, that plan would work best if there was some distraction. Ranger knew just what that needed to be.

Nodding their heads in agreement, the men moved according to their plan. As soon as they disappeared in the haze, Ranger made his move. One stealthy step at a time, he came up behind the figure. After only a few steps he froze, a gun pointed at his chest.

Shots rang out, accompanied by all kinds of shouting.

Chet and Vince were still in the garage down below, they heard the shots and stopped cold. So did Stephanie as she watched the movements of blurred figures on the screen. She froze too, unable to breathe.

Oh please don't let it be Ranger up there," she muttered. Her hands covered her mouth, as if to keep her from voicing any of her fears. Her wide eyes stared at the monitor.

Hearts were pounding. No one moved. No words were spoken. There were no answers. Only questions that no one wanted to ask.

. .oOo.


	17. Chapter 17

. .oOo.

Chapter 17

Nick Ellis had his rifle aimed at the broad chest of one of the people he had been hating for so long. A rush, a thrill ran through his body, he had dreamed of a moment like this! For so long, he had wanted to know what it would be like, having this power over the mighty Manoso.

He almost closed his eyes to enjoy the moment, but he didn't. His eyes were staring into Ranger's and he knew the first one to blink would lose. No, this was not a game, this was the first real thing that had ever happened to him in years. Not since his days in the agency had he felt this surge of adrenaline, and the raw energy that came with it.

His eyes narrowed and Ellis tried to look as fierce as he felt. This was the showdown, the one he had been craving from the minute he had been hidden away in the office. Kinkaid may have thought that he was doing him a favor by getting him a nice cushy job, but in reality, Nick felt like he had been slowly dying there.

This, this is what was real, confronting what had been causing pain in his life for so long. The anger he felt was coming to the boiling point again. Nick could feel the the pressure of his finger on the trigger. Ranger was not such a tough guy while he was looking down the barrel of a gun. He would learn not to mess with Nick Ellis.

Oh yes, this is what if felt like to be alive. Energy, pulsing through his body like an electrical currant, ignited each cell in his body with heat. Power. Manoso would be first, then he would find the general, Nick knew he was here somewhere. He could take out a few more guys along the way too, it would go a long way in his quest for revenge. But first, Ranger.

The two men stood tall, facing off. Ellis, believing that he was in control, allowed a cynical smile. He stepped closer. An attempt to intimidate his enemy, but Ranger did not even so much as flinch. Begrudgingly, Ellis was impressed. Not everyone could act so cool with his death so imminent. He would be benevolent, as it was his power to be, and would make the kill quick and clean. That would be his homage to the man, the warrior.

Nick felt the throbbing in his trigger finger now, itching to do it. To pull the trigger, feel his satisfaction. He filled his lungs with air, puffing out his chest. The alpha male, dominant, Omnipotent. He was enjoying every second of this.

. .oOo.

The car sped through the streets of DC. Sarah couldn't believe what was happening. The street lights brightly flashed as they passed under one after another, intermittently illuminating the strong features of the man driving. He did not speak again. And they rode in silence, both wondering what was going to happen next.

With her arms behind her back, the ride was not nearly as comfortable as it could have been. But it served to remind her that things were not always what they seemed. On the seat beside her, Sarah saw her bag and the ID tag she would have used to go to work tonight. They had been gathered up after he had taken her down. She imagined that there had been no evidence left behind that could show that she had even been there.

He seemed to be very thorough. The whole arrest scene, getting handcuffed, it had all served to give show that he was in authority. If they had been seen, no questions would have been asked. Now Sarah couldn't help but wonder what his plans were from here. No words were spoken, not by him, and certainly not by her. It felt familiar, like all of those times that she'd met with Vasya to exchange the information she'd collected. He had had strict rules about that too.

So it continued until they arrived at their destination. As the car stopped, Sarah swung her head around trying to see where they were, if she recognized any landmarks near by. All she could see in the dark was the grouping of tall trees outlined by the golden glow of the street light.

Funny that she had not been paying attention to where they were at all. It was exactly what someone would do if they felt that their lives had been threatened. That she only remembered to try it now must have been the best indication that being threatened was the last thing that she was feeling right now.

Patiently she waited. She watched as the door was opened. He helped her out, turning her so that he could free her hands. And suddenly she was pulled into the arms of the man she had been missing so badly.

"Vasya," she whispered as her arms circled around him. She felt like she would never let go of him ever again. Tears of joy, not fear anymore, dripped down her cheeks. There had been moments lately that her tears had been of sorrow, thinking that the man she loved was dead. But now he was here, in her arms, holding her. It was right, and so good. Vasya was here.

Why was he here? Sarah suddenly pulled back to look into his face. He was here, after being dead. There were so many questions, and he saw them in her eyes.

"Shhhh," he said again, a smile playing on his lips. "I'll tell you everything," he said. "But not here."

With an urgency that had not existed a moment ago, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him into the grove of trees. Like fugitives, they moved quickly under the branches. In a small clearing, a motorcycle waited for them.

"Vasya?" Sarah whispered. Those questions raising up again.

"Zurie," he said, turning to her, his face perfectly serious. His hand gently cradled her cheek. "My name is Zurie."

Sarah leaned her head into his hand, looking into his eyes. Some of the questions were working themselves out. Vasya had been a person that he had been pretending to be.

"Zurie," she smiled as she tried out the name, liking how it felt on her lips. "Zurie," she said it again and he closed his eyes. He loved how it sounded when she said it. Loved that she could call him by his own name now.

They embraced again, Zurie reluctantly letting her go. It was like he had waited a lifetime to feel this way, but they had to get moving, so he kissed her cheek and stepped back.

Sarah watched as he reached for the bag sitting on the ground next to the motorcycle. Setting it on the seat, Zurie opened the bag and pulled out two bundles, handing one of them to her. She opened it to find an easy, but effective disguise, and in minutes both of them were completely transformed.

Zurie pulled out a packet with their new identities. Drivers licenses with amazingly real photos of their disguised selves naming her Emily Taylor, and him David Taylor. Married. She looked up at him and smiled, the thought brought such warmth to her heart. Passports and money were also in the packet with airline tickets that she tucked into the backpack that he handed her. They were going to Europe.

. .oOo.

Ranger held Nick's gaze, this was a showdown, of sorts, between the men. Ellis, he knew, was trying to feel dominant, powerful. Ranger could see it in his eyes. They had that half crazed look that so many of the psychopaths he'd seen always had. And that would be his downfall.

Ellis held the gun steady, he had been a pretty good marksman years ago when Ranger had known him. But that was not what Ranger was thinking about. Ellis had done enough damage tonight, and he was determined to stop him.

A distraction was what they had needed to carry out his plan. And Ranger was that distraction. Ellis was giving him all of his attention, smugly gloating in his small victory. Ranger kept his blank face in place, not reacting to Nick at all, he knew it would serve to further unnerve him. And there it was, Nick started to scowl, a squint of his eyes was the first indication that it was working. He was still so very predictable. Ranger never wavered, keeping Nick's eyes on him was his goal.

Slowly Ranger took a deep breath, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He was nervous, but he would never let Ellis know that. He couldn't, Nick would never understand, he lacked the ability to care about another human being.

Ranger stared at him, this was quite disturbing. Standing there, with the gun pointing at the heart that belonged to Stephanie, brought into focus all of the reasons that he never wanted to put himself in this kind of situation ever again.

It served to just emphasize the reasons why he had told the general, weeks ago, that he was done. No more contracts. Stephanie. He needed to be with her. That was the only thing he wanted right now. And that was what he was willing to fight for. Ranger heard a footfall off to his left. He was pretty sure that the men were in place. It would not be long now.

.oOo.

Stephanie was immediately on her feet. Her hands were still covering part of her face as her eyes remained glued to the monitor. She could see Ranger now. The angle was not very good, and the haze from the smoke didn't help either, but there was no mistaking who was standing there with the point of a gun aiming at his heart.

Her emotions were rising and she was finding it hard to breathe and difficult to swallow. Once again everything seemed to be in slow motion, drawing out the terror that each moment held. Though she was not aware of it, she had been making strangled noises, softly muffled behind her hands. Nothing had ever made her feel more helpless than seeing him there and knowing that there was nothing that she could do.

There wasn't time, or she would be running across the street to throw herself in front of that gun, willingly taking the bullet if it would keep the man she loved safe. She did not want to see this, but she would not turn her eyes away. It was a good thing that they had no audio with this feed. Not that she would have been able to hear any thing but the pounding of her heart anyway.

Stephanie continued to stare, unaware of the fact that her body was trembling. Her only focus was on Ranger. But the others in the room had noticed. They had been worried about her since the moment that Ranger and the team had left, but now they knew that someone had to do something for her.

It was Hector that stepped up and grabbed Stephanie's hand. He knew that she felt things deeply, Stephanie never did anything half way. And now the depth of her emotions threatened to swallow her in and drag her under. He knew that he needed to guide her back to a place where she could breathe and start to think again.

"What do you feel in your heart?" he asked her, as he gently pulled her to sit in a chair. Stephanie finally looked up at her very good friend. His simple words got through to her. It was then that she realized that he was right. That connection, that tingle had always told her that he was near. What was it telling her now? Suddenly she knew that he was okay, she felt tingling stronger than ever and that could only mean that he was not only alive but that he was going to be okay. She had found the ability to believe that again. Stephanie squeezed Hector's hand.

Now that she was tuned to him, she could also feel his strength, and his loyalty. Ranger had not stepped into harms way without a very good reason. He had a plan and even if she could not imagine what it was, she knew that he would do everything he could to make things right. And that meant getting back to her.

"Thank you Hector, "she said. She had needed that simple reminder.

. .oOo.

With slow steady footsteps, the men moved from their position on the stairs to go around the back side of the stairwell. Circling around, they had Ellis in their sights. Guns out, they crouched down to remain hidden in the smokey shadows. Slowly and steadily they kept moving toward him. It was dark, yes. And hazy. But it puzzled them to see that he did not seem to know that they were there.

Ranger was doing his job, keeping Nick's eyes on him. They could see that. But as good as they were, in stealth mode, four men moving along a gravel covered rooftop had to have been making enough noise for Ellis to hear them. But if he did, he gave no indication.

Still they moved along, getting closer and into place. All of a sudden, Ellis broke into a maniacal laughter,b surprising them all. They froze in place. He threw his head back and really laughed it up. They were sure that he knew that were there, that he had only been pretending not to notice, but still he just laughed and taunted Ranger who was still standing motionless with the gun now jammed up against his chest.

Despite the laughter, this situation was as serious as it could get. Ellis was a crazy man. There was no way to predict what he would do next, but when they heard him cock the gun, they had a pretty good idea of what he had in mind.

The slightest movement of Ranger's head gave them permission to proceed.

"Give it up Ellis," Ranger said, the first words he had spoken to the man since this had all started. His voice was low, but loud and menacing. "Put the gun down," Ranger told him. "This is your only warning."

Nick was getting angry, Ranger could feel the trembling of rage through the muzzle of the gun. He knew that he was pushing him, maybe too far, with the condition that Ellis was in. But this had to end. The plan was to catch him off guard, and that time was now. Nick was glaring at him, and it was obvious that he had still not noticed that the men surrounding him.

"No!" Ellis screamed at him, lunging forward and pushing Ranger back. "You die now!" That was all that was needed to set every man on the roof in motion.

Ranger back handed the rifle, just as Ellis pulled the trigger. The gun clattered down on the ground the shot ringing in their ears. Nick grabbed another gun from his belt, but before he could take aim, he was tackled from behind. In his madness, Ellis started firing randomly, pointing his gun everywhere. He was frantic, where had all these men come from? But there was no way he was going down without all the fight he had left in him.

Unexpectedly he spun around kicking someone in the leg, bringing them down hard. Then he was up on one knee pointing his gun at another one of the other guys. Ranger tackled him just as the shot got off. Ellis was crazed with indignation. He fought, kicking out, punching with one hand, pointing his gun with the other. He kept shooting, until all of the bullets were spent.

This was not supposed to happen, he thought frantically. He had not been prepared for this. Where did everyone come from? But he would not be defeated like this, not when there was breath left in his body. The odds were against him, but he was not going to let that stop him, not this time. With strength from his rage and fury, Nick Ellis jumped up and let out a blood curdling yell. He lunged at the first person that he saw, Ranger. They went down hard, Nick fighting with everything he had.

The moment the knife was visible in his hands, however, it was over. Two of the guys jumped on him, trying to subdue him and to get the knife. Like a wild animal, Ellis lashed out one more time.

It would be the last.

. .oOo.


	18. Chapter 18

. .oOo.

Chapter 18

Stephanie had seen enough. She jumped up from her chair and started for the elevator. Cal was right behind her, as was Hector. They had all been watching the action on the roof, in varying degrees of horror. Her movement served to put them all in motion. Aban got up too, but someone put their hand on his shoulder to stop him. Of course, they were right. Leaving the building could possibly bring even more problems, and that was the last thing he wanted for these men. They had all been through enough tonight.

Deciding that the elevator would take too long, Stephanie pushed open the door to the stairwell and ran down, taking the stairs two and three at a time.

"Steph, wait!" Cal yelled, his voice echoing in the confined space.

"Show me how to get up there," she yelled back. Her speed increased as she raced through the smoldering garage.

"Come, this way, I show you," Hector called to her as he sprinted across the street. She was right behind him as he reached a service door. And behind her was Cal and about six other guys who all felt the same urgency to get up there and assess the situation.

Stephanie was out of breath, but it was not only from racing up four flights of stairs. Her heart was pounding too, she needed to get to Ranger. Bursting through the door to the roof, she was still moving, her eyes frantically searching for him.

And there he was. She had never seen anything more beautiful, more wonderful than he looked right now. "Ranger!" she cried out, her voice not much more than a breathy whisper, as relief swept over her.

Ranger turned to see the most stunning sight that he had ever seen. Stephanie was running toward him. It only took a few more steps before she was in his arms. He held on to her, burying his face in her neck, fighting the tears that threatened to start a deluge. His heart was pounding, he was sure she could feel it, because he could feel hers too.

The world and all its chaos faded around them, there was only this. Only this embrace, this moment.

"Oh, Babe," Ranger murmured, as all other words failed him. He kissed her neck, her cheek, her chin, taking his time getting to her lips. Savoring every sensation of holding her close, safely in his arm. She too, wanted this moment to last forever. It was no longer a dream or a wish or a hope. He was here, in her arms. In her life. Nothing else mattered.

Cal and the others moved past them. Ellis was on the ground, and the four rangemen, that had come up with Ranger, were standing in a semicircle around him. They all still had their weapons in their hands, one of them held a knife as well. And then there was the blood.

He would have asked the question, but Cal already knew what could have gone on in the fight that they watched. Ellis had fought them like a rabid dog. He had been all over Ranger, and lashing out at everyone else. Threatening Ranger had been his fatal mistake.

Up until that moment, they had been lenient, allowing for the mentally unbalanced condition that they knew he suffered from. They had taken the crazed attack, the gunfight, and the insults, but they had to draw the line somewhere, and pulling a knife on their boss was it.

Kneeling down next to Nick's body, Cal did a cursory exam, noting where he had been shot. Without looking up he did ask one question, "Who got the shot?"

In unison all four of them said, "I did." Cal just nodded. Details of the last few minutes of the fighting would be sorted out later, for now, he ordered the men to meet with Bobby to get checked out. Cal looked them over carefully. They had been standing, but he had not checked to see if any of them had injuries that would prevent them from getting there under their own steam.

Though there was plenty of blood to be seen, not one of them admitted to being hurt. Each man simply nodded and stepped away. Cal watched them go toward the stairs. He could tell that they were disguising a limp or two, but he would give them that, he knew that they were going to be okay. Ellis may have given them some cuts and bruises and maybe even grazed them with a bullet or two, but they had protected one of their own, and as far as he was concerned, that made them all heroes.

. .oOo.

Mahir knew that everything was wrong. The anger in these men, that he had been working with for years, had started to scare him more than ever. Though none of it had been directed at him, specifically, he was still worried.

Aban had tried to warn him, he had told him so many times that these men no longer represented the changes he had hoped to make in this evil world. They were more like the terrorists that his father had accused him of being when he joined.

It was clear to him now that Aban had been right, he had seen it months ago. How could they continue to live like this, Aban had asked one day. Mahir had not answered. What had happened to the hope, the vow to make it a better world, he had wanted to know. Again Mahir had had no answers. Now those very questions were haunting him and all he wanted to do was leave this all far behind him.

The sparse house, that they had been headquartered in, was full of boxes now. Some were filled with equipment and stacked against the wall by the garage door, and many more were empty waiting to be packed up and loaded into the moving van that was scheduled to show up soon.

He understood the urgency, Mahir knew that they were all at risk of being discovered now that some of their men were in custody. Not that he believed that they would ever betray them, but because it was the way things were. Rules were in place for these situations, and they must be followed.

He did his job, everything that was asked of him, and still he felt that their attitude toward him was becoming increasingly hostile. The sideways glances, the tone of their voice, accidentally being bumped around. They had not acted this way before Aban left. It was too much for him to ignore. Only serving to confirm his decision to get out of there as soon as he could.

Another box was packed and placed on the growing stack against the wall. Mahir was organized and quick, getting the job done in record time. His movements belied the worry and fear that he felt, however, and all he could think of was his plan to escape.

Its just that Mahir was not prepared for this kind of thing, it had always been Aban who had been the smart one, the one who could figure out the best way. But despite that, Mahir was forming a plan in his mind. Some of the elements seemed to be coming together, and it gave him a bit of hope.

And then the most amazing thing happened. Mahir watched as the van moved slowly down the street. Everything from the house had been packed up and was now being moved to their new location. He was a little bit disappointed that his initial plan to ride up front with the driver had not panned out. There was no way now to slip away secretly.

All of the men were piling into the two cars that were parked in front of the house they had known for so long. He sighed as he picked up the small duffel bag from the porch and headed to one of the cars. But he did not get far when he saw another car pull up, a taxi cab was here. Mahir felt a hand on his arm. He looked over at the man who had recruited him years before.

"The cab will take you to the airport," he said. Then he handed Mahir an envelope. "Your flight information is here with the money you will need to get home."

Mahir was speechless, he was being handed the one thing he wanted more than anything else in the world. Holding the envelope, he tried to say thank you, say something, but no words came.

"Go." It was said with a slight push to his shoulder. Nodding, Mahir moved quickly to the cab, before anyone could change their minds. He did not care why they were doing this, had no idea that they had chosen to send him back to their country as a way to safeguard their secrets here. As far as they were concerned, he was no longer to be trusted, not after what his friend Aban had done.

There would be someone waiting when he got off the plane. It had been decided to let him die in the homeland. Much easier to cover his demise in a country that saw death every day, and that had no means with which to investigate most of them. Their plan was in place, Mahir would no longer be their problem.

. .oOo.

Tank was glad that it was over, but his heart was not into the celebrations he knew were going on in various locations in the building. . His mind was on something else.

He was desperately trying to come up with a plan that would take him back to the Grand Canyon. Over and over, he played back the images in his head of the first moment that he had laid eyes on Nia. The flood of feelings he got from that memory nearly overwhelmed him.

Strange to think of it now, but he had known, in that instant, that his life would never be the same again. 'Love at first sight' the words popped into his head. That is exactly what it had been. If he had never believed in it before, he definitely did now. And just to press the point he remembered that the next time he had seen her had confirmed it. Her smile, that sweet way that she had of looking at him, with her head tilted at an angle like she knew his secrets, her firm grip when she took his hand in hers, the sparks from that single kiss. All of these things told him that he was right, he had somehow found the only woman who had ever touched his heart.

How could he let her go now? No, that was not an option. Somewhere along the line, he had decided that as soon as all of this Ellis craziness was done, he would leave and get back to her. Tank nearly chuckled, with the way things had worked out tonight, he might be back there before she came in for her next shift. Calling her tomorrow may not be necessary. It was an idea that pleased him. He would love to see the look on her face when Nia saw him there.

That fantasy, however ended the moment that General Kinkaid walked into the room. In his way, with his big voice booming, he announced that they were to stay within the confines of the RangeMan building, as planned, until further notice.

While the trouble that Ellis had caused was over, that little incident with a terrorist group had not been resolved to his satisfaction. There was no room for argument and they all knew it, so the men remained silent as he spelled out the orders for at least the next forty-eight hours. In a much more subdued voice, he dismissed the men whule he, himself, remained seated.

Silently the general watched as the men filed out of the room, most of them to go find the sleeping quarters that Ella had set up for them. It was actually a relief to finally be able to get some badly needed rest. Kinkaid hoped that that was exactly what they would do. Ella had a place for him too, but he was not ready to try for sleep yet. He knew that it was not going to come easily.

What he did not share with his men, what they could not ever know, weighed heavily on his heart right now. He had to deal with grief and deep pain that he felt over this situation with Nick Ellis. For so many years he had seen him as the son he had never had. He had done everything that he could for Nick, hadn't he? Questions that he could never answer plagued his mind.

Though the general didn't often allow himself to play the 'if' game, he was playing it now in his mind. After the diagnosis, Nick's father had been assured that the chemical imbalance could be controlled with medication. Kinkaid had watched as his good friend and his son went through one trial period after another, trying to find the right dosage that would fix the problem.

That was the first 'if'. If they had been able to work that one element out, things could have been so different for Nick. As it was, after years of failing to find the right levels of those drugs, he had given up on taking any meds at all because he did not like the way they made him feel. Of course, it had been easy to predict that it only served to compound the problem.

Then there was the day that he had added his recommendation on the application to the aganecy that was considering Ellis as a member of their covert ops. What if he had not done that? Could he have saved Nick from the injury that took part of his hearing, that left the scars so deep?

Was the job he found him in the HR office the wrong thing too? Was it slowly killing his will to live as Nick had put it so dramatically?

The game continued until Kinkaid came to the point that he could no longer follow the paths that each different decision could have taken them. Nick was dead. The duty he had, to inform his friend of the death of his son, weighed so very heavily on his heart and mind. But he could no longer pretend that there had been anything that he or Nick's family could have done to change it. Nick Ellis had chosen the path that his life had taken. Personality disorder or not, the person who had to take responsibility for his own decisions was Nick himself.

He sat, alone in the darkened room. Leaning on the table, his head in his hands, he looked as dejected as he felt. Oh, how he wished that things could have been different. The what if game was over. Kinkaid knew that he would carry this pain with him forever.

. .oOo.

Bobby glanced up at the clock, realizing with a sigh that it was well after midnight and the small waiting room of his infirmary was still packed. He had personally looked at everyone who had come in and he knew that most of the injuries that needed to be treated were minor. As relieved as he was that everyone was alive and in good spirits, he knew that it would be a while yet before they could all get some rest.

Like so many of them, he was coming off of several days with no sleep to speak of, and fatigue had tried to overtake him a time or two. It was the stories that kept him alert and interested as he worked. While Bobby attended to them one by one, he listened, and marveled at the tales that were now being told.

Each of the men had a unique perspective to what had been going on tonight. It had started with Woody. The burns he had suffered blistered his skin in several spots on his torso, and singed his hair in a few more places. It could have been so much worse, especially when Woody described the explosions he'd been so close to.

Shaking his head, Bobby remained quiet as Woody recounted what had happened. He knew that if those flames had not shot straight up in the air, if they had burst outward, Woody would not be here having this discussion with him.

Vince had been right behind Woody, in line for treatment for smoke inhalation and a few burns on his hands. Even with the sporadic coughing, Vince told Bobby about the ricochet gun fire set up. If it hadn't been so dangerous for the men, it was clear that he had almost been impressed with the simplicity and the effectiveness of the set up.

So it went, Gene and Hal and Junior all came in with accounts of the many devices, that they had found, that had been responsible for the small bursts of flames and the huge amount of smoke that had filled the parking garage. With a grudging reluctance, they too had all been impressed with the simple but effective little gadgets.

And then came Brett, and Zip and Ram and Roger. The men who had been with Ranger up on the roof. Their story was as disturbing as it was incredible. Nick Ellis had been a crazy man, a genius, but completely out of his mind crazy.

Bobby listened in silence, the injuries that these guys had were by far the worst he had seen tonight. While a couple of the guys had only had bullets graze their skin, Roger and Zip had been hit with shots that had passed through muscle tissue on their arms or legs. They were sent on to the emergency room for complete treatment, but not before they had shared their views of what had happened.

From all accounts, Bobby knew that Nick had done as much damage as he had because he had been so crazy. He had passed insane a couple of turns ago, and the man they had been up against had been more like a wounded animal. Vicious and erratic. Quite frankly, he would have expected there to be much more serious injuries. It proved that these men were just that good. They knew how to fight, and they knew how to take care of themselves.

As the last man left, Bobby washed his hands and smiled at himself in the small mirror above the sink. He couldn't help but feel so damn proud of the guys. They had taken a bad situation and, for the most part, contained it quickly and professionally with minimal damage.

Now he had just one more thing to do. There was someone who had not come down to see him. From all the stories, Bobby knew that there were a few wounds that had not been taken care of yet. Ranger had not been one of the men who had reported in for some first aid. From what he had heard tonight, he knew that Ranger had been right on the front line from the start. Ellis could have killed him, but at the very least, he had sustained some damage. And if he wasn't going to come down here, he was going to have to go find him and make sure that he was okay.

Turning off the light and shutting the door, Bobby took his medical bag and headed upstairs. He was going to go and take care of them right now, whether Ranger wanted him to or not.

His plan was simple. Bobbie was pretty sure that Stephanie was still with Ranger, and he could enlist her help if he got any resistance from his boss. He was so tired that he took the elevator, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes for a few moments. As soon as the doors opened, he saw them standing across the hall, presumably waiting for the elevator themselves.

"Ranger," he started to say, but Stephanie interrupted him.

"I'm getting him upstairs, can you come up and take care of him there?"

Bobby nodded. They joined him and rode up in silence. Less than half an hour later Bobbie was making him way down to his apartment and some well deserved sleep.

. .oOo.

Finally alone, Stephanie climbed up on the bed where Ranger lay, propped up with pillows. Bobbie had prescribed sleep, and she couldn't agree more. Ranger opened his arm, inviting her to come snuggle close. She tucked herself up against him and laid her head on his shoulder.

His arm curled around her pulling her just a little bit closer still. "I love you, you know," he said, his voice soft, but hoarse . She looked up into his face. His eyes met hers. They had so much to talk about, and they would, but not tonight. Tonight they got to just be here together.

"I know," she said, very seriously. "I've always loved you." A statement of fact. A declaration of truth. "And I always will."

Stephanie kissed him gently. Then in wonder, in awe, she traced a single finger over his lips and smiled. He was here, after all this time, he was really here. His mouth curved in a smile under her touch.

"Sleep," she said softly. She kissed him once more, then she snuggled back in place, where she fell asleep in his arms. He let himself bask in the feeling of her in his arms before he followed, drifting into the world he had dreamt of for so long.

. .oOo.


	19. Chapter 19

. .oOo.

Chapter 19

When the sun goes down on the north rim of the Grand Canyon, wildlife comes out to hunt and play. Crickets set the rhythm of the night, a back drop for the high pitched squawking of the northern Goshawks issuing a warning, and compete with the screams of the mountain loins that seems to be something between a hoarse growl and long screech that pierces the night.

This had become like a lullaby for Nia in the months that she had been here. She did not even hear it consciously anymore, and it was not what made her spring up in her bed in the middle of the night.

She had a dream to blame for waking her up. A dream unlike anything she had ever had before. In fact, the heat on her face let her know that she was blushing. Nia put a hand up to her cheek, a smile was already on her lips. And her heart was fluttering at the thought of the man who had changed everything about her world.

Suddenly frantic, Nia threw her covers aside and jumped out of bed. She had his number, that small piece of paper that somehow held her whole future. Where was it? She had to know and she had to know right now.

Of course it was on the desk, in plain sight, right where she had left it. And the relief she felt by seeing it there nearly melted her bones. Sinking into the chair, Nia grabbed her phone and proceeded to save his number in her contacts list. She was not willing to risk losing her only means of contacting him.

Once done, she sat back and let out the breath that she, only now, had become aware she'd been holding in her lungs. Flipping the light off, she sat again in the darkness. Knowing that there was no way that she would be getting any more sleep tonight, Nia let her mind go through the questions that she had been asking herself since the moment that Mitch had handed her that slip of paper. What, she wanted to know, was she going to do with it?

All of Geilen's talk of love at first sight, and the recounting of his own experience with it had done this to her. She was pretty sure all that talk was what was responsible for the very intense dream that she had had. But now that she was awake, this was her life that she was talking about.

A life that she could no longer see without Tank in it. How had that happened so quickly? Her eyes wandered over to see the clock next to the bed. Calculating the time difference in her mind, she knew that it was still too early to call him, even if she had had the guts to do it.

For another hour, she had imaginary conversations with him in her mind. All different scenarios, and all of them seemed to make her heart grow just a little fonder of him. He was so kind, and gentle for being such a giant of a man. Her interactions with him had been limited, of course she readily admitted that. But the times she had spent with him had been the best she could ever remember.

He was a gentleman, good manners mattered to a girl who had grown up with a southern belle as a mother. His touch had been so tender, despite the roughness of his hands. His eyes, so dark, so expressive, she could get lost just looking into them. And that kiss. Oh, the kiss. Nia closed her eyes and played back the kiss with all of its hopes and promises.

Another few minutes of this left Nia a bit breathless again and totally convinced that there was no way she would ever get back to sleep. Thoughts of Tank filled her mind and heart as she pulled out her suitcases and finished packing for her trip home. Now, more than ever, she couldn't wait to get as close to Trenton, New Jersey as she could.

. .oOo.

Sunlight streamed into the kitchen. A bit too bright and way too cheerful for Melissa, who was sitting at the table staring at the phone in her hand. That was a call she wished she'd never answered.

Melissa Davron had never been in so much trouble before, especially not this kind. Any other small problems that had ever come up before had been taken care of by Ben or by Nick. But neither one of them were around anymore.

That thought brought tears to her eyes again, for Ben. Finding out that he was dead had been a shock. A slice of pain that she had not been prepared for. Realizing that she missed him, that she had really never loved anyone but him came too late. How could she have been so cold, so cruel to him when he had only ever wanted to make her happy. Why didn't she see it? Regret would torment her for the rest of her life.

All kinds of charges had been brought against her. Fraud against the US Army was the worst one, and the one that she really had had nothing to do with. Nick had been the one to get the benefits back for her after she had divorced Ben. And she'd had no idea that there was a life insurance policy. Ben had never mentioned one, and she was sure that Nick had not told her about anything like that either, she would definitely have remembered that. A million dollars was impossible to just forget.

On top of it all, being sued by the publishers, for the money they had given her as advances on a book that could never be published, had been the last straw. She was going to need a lawyer now. What she was being told, in essence, was that you don't mess with the army, and she was looking at a maximum of twenty years imprisonment, or up to a half a million dollars in fines for these offenses.

Easy to say that her life, as she had known it, was over now. Her best case scenario is that she could keep the court tied up for years before the sentence was finally handed down to her. But that option did not feel any better than the sentences themselves.

Elbows propped on the table, she held her head in her hands and cried. Big teardrops that plopped on the shiny surface. But no one was here to see them, there was no one left to help her, and that was what caused Melissa the deepest pain. No matter how she tried to rationalize everything, she had no one to blame but herself.

. .oOo.

Tucked into a corner of the comm room, Binkie hunched over his keyboard. Muttering could be heard on either side of him as Roger and Miguel worked at their own computers. While all of the excitement had been going on outside, this team was methodically going through searches for more information about the terrorist group that Aban had been running from.

The frustration was that there were so many groups known by insidious acronyms that it practically rivaled the government and its alphabet agencies. Not much public information was readily available about any of them, and unless these groups had taken credit for an attack or an assassination, they did not want anyone to know about them.

That was their power, working in secret, right under everyone's noses. And that was how Aban had described the MAK that he and Mahir had worked with. Aban had walked through the intel, that he had gathered, with them. And Binkie was still amazed at how deep these organizations ran.

Under the guise of being a humanitarian group, they professed to try to spread peace in their own country as well as round the globe, But the MAK was in the business of collecting secret information that could be used as a form of blackmail against as many politicians and countries as they could.

According to Aban, many of the activities that they had participated in, at first, had actually seemed like a good way to effect change that otherwise would not have been done. Money, pressure, coercion, they were all reasonable forms of persuasion.

When those methods were not effective, however, other means were necessary. Aban had not known about the assassins in the group when he had joined it. It had not taken long to realize that none of it was what it had seemed. But he had convinced himself that enough good had been done, that it justified some of the violence that he had come to know the group was participating in.

Not until Ben Davron was killed, had he seen any of this. In relating all that he knew, all that he had seen, Aban had had to stop several times to swallow and breathe deeply. Binkie watched him try to control his emotions, but it was clear that the man was determined to see that these groups of terrorists, for they could be called nothing else, were brought to justice.

He had brought in intel about dozens of men and groups that the MAK had contacted and worked with. The list was extensive, and most of it would be turned over to Kinkaid. The general would be able to deal with all of that. It was specifically Aban's group that was causing concern at the moment. But they were good, not much of what they did, according to Aban, could be traced back to them. Covert took on a whole new meaning when it came to this group. It might have been impressive, if it hadn't been for the fact that they were so dangerous.

A phone rang, and all three men jumped a little. Startled, they all looked at their phones, but it was Binkie who had received the call. He answered, standing up and walking around as he talked. After a few minutes, he came back over and leaned back against the desk. Miguel and Roger stopped what they were doing and looked up at him.

"That was Morelli," Binkie said, holding out his phone, indicating the call he had just taken. "He is now on the case."

Roger sat back in his chair, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "Doesn't Morelli work homicide?" he asked., wondering why he would be on the case of a group of terrorists being held in jail.

"Yeah," Binkie said simply. "And he is now looking into the deaths of the four men that the TDP picked up here after shooting things up outside of our front door."

"So," Miguel said. "He's starting with us, in his investigation."

Binkie pushed away from the desk and moved over to sit down. "I told him we would send everything that we've got."

And that wasn't much. All three men were very aware of the lack of intel that they had to offer. Now it was even more imperative to dig deep and find it. They knew that unless all four of those men had bitten into a cyanide capsule, (and who does that anymore?) ending their own lives, someone was still out there trying to tie up loose ends where Aban was concerned. They needed something to go on, and they needed it now.

. .oOo.

The man in the taxi cab pulled up in front of the drop off area and stopped. Mahir reached forward and handed him some of the cash from his envelope, then he got out and shut the door. For the first time in years, Mahir was alone. He actually felt a bit self conscious about that fact. And he did feel very alone.

He made his way through the crowds, trying to decide what he was going to do. This blessing, of being sent home, had seemed so perfect an hour ago, but he had had the whole ride over to think about it. Now he was scared. Over and over again he had asked himself the one question that seemed to matter the most. If Aban was here with him, what would he do?

Mahir had always trusted his friend to find the best way, the right way to do things. He needed that now. But as far as he knew Aban was gone forever. Oh, how he missed him. Though it had been his own fault for so blindly following what he was told to do, Mahir knew that it was now up to him and he had to make the right decision.

Standing across the way from the ticket counter of his airline, Mahir knew what the answer to that question would be. Do not trust anyone. Simply put, for a long time now, Aban no longer had any faith in the men who had sent them here. That told him all that he needed to know. Mahir made up his mind and slowly walked to the counter.

It took much longer than he had anticipated to make the changes. He was so afraid that he was being watched, but looking over his shoulder didn't help his nervousness. The woman at the counter was kind and as helpful as she could be. Its just that there was so much paperwork, so many questions.

When it was all said and done, he had missed the flight that he would have been on. As far as Mahir knew, no one would know that until sometime tomorrow. By then, he would be far away from his home. Far away from anything that he knew. Far away from where he had said goodbye to his friend. But, he thought, he would be safe.

As he sat, tucked in a corner of the waiting area, he thanked his friend. In his heart he felt so much gratitude for Aban. All that he had ever wanted to do was bring peace to this world. This was a new start for him, and Mahir hoped that, this time, he could actually find the right way to do that. He would try, for his friend.

. .oOo.

Ella pushed a cart into the break room and started setting up breakfast. For the number of men staying here right now, she had made huge amounts of food to get them going for the day. No sooner than she had entered the room, a line of rangemen, and their guests, started coming in.

An hour later, a steady flow of hungry men had nearly consumed all of it. A smile lit her face. She loved to see her guys happy and well fed. And as always, she sensed that they were going to need it. Everything felt unsettled still, and waiting was never easy on anyone.

With the new day, General Kinkaid had wanted to call another meeting for everyone who had been involved in the action yesterday. Actually, that would include just about everyone in the building. So he revised his plan. After some consideration, he felt that meeting with smaller groups would work out better.

First up was Ranger and Aban. Stephanie was to come along too, as she had been the one to spend a lot of time with Aban when he had first arrived. She was also the one to look at the intel that he had brought them, so he considered her a valuable member of the team.

When he first arrived, Kinkaid looked Ranger over very carefully. The injuries that he had sustained in the fight with Nick had been foremost on his mind all night long. A quick look into the medical log indicated that a cracked rib had been among the cuts and bruises. He knew that that was going to be painful, and could take some time to heal. The guilt over what Nick had done was eating at him still.

Weeks ago, Ranger had put in his resignation. Kinkaid had been prepared to argue with him that he was still needed. He hated to lose one of his best men. But in light of all that had happened, he could hardly expect him to change his mind now.

Maybe, he thought, it was time for him to retire too. He had not seriously considered it before, but now it was starting to have a bit more appeal. These thoughts were put aside when Aban Lufti walked into the conference room.

Kinkaid sat back and watched as Stephanie introduced Aban to Ranger. He thought it was interesting that this man seemed so comfortable with Stephanie, but very shy around Ranger. He spoke quietly and politely answered all of the questions that were asked, but the general was sure that he was holding something back.

After a few minutes, Kinkaid stood and moved closer, he was ready to get this started. Stephanie was not the only one to have gone through the information that Mr. Lufti had brought in. He had actually been impressed with how detailed and complete so much of it was. Most of the names on the list were not a surprise to him. But the photos that put some of these people together was.

If all of it was accurate, this man had brought the evidence that was needed to bring many of these terrorists down. He hadn't dared to believe it, but after a good twenty minutes of questioning, Kinkaid was ready to pass along the intel to the appropriate channels.

One final question from the general brought the discussion to an abrupt end. "How did you know to contact Mr. Manoso here?" he inquired. Aban froze. His face showed an emotion that ran deep and was filled with sorrow.

Stephanie shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She looked at Aban, then at Ranger. It had not been on purpose, but she had not told him. They really had not had the time to talk, not with all that had gone on. So Ranger did not know what Ben's last words had been.

Reaching out and taking his hands in hers, Stephanie cleared her throat, trying to find the way to say the words. His eyes were searching hers, what was so hard for her to say? What was wrong? Just then, Aban stood. He faced Ranger and answered the question by addressing him directly.

"Ben Davron told me to find you," he said. Ranger looked confused, almost angry. Stephanie squeezed his hands in a show of her support. Both remained silent as Aban continued. He explained about finding Ben in Arizona. About the men, the assassins who killed him. And then he repeated the last words that Ben had said. "Find Manoso, tell him I'm sorry."

For several minutes there was silence in that room. No one moved, waiting for Ranger to respond. Finally he stood and nodded at Aban. "Thank you." he said. Then he shook his hand and left the room. Stephanie patted Aban's hand, and gave Kinkaid one look before she followed him.

. .oOo.

"There," Chandler said, pointing to the screen. McKay and Anson leaned in closer to take a look. "They're getting careless, that car had driven down that street several times now." The others nodded, they had seen it too.

"I think that we should go introduce ourselves," Ian said. Again the guys were nodding, but they stopped when the general walked into the room. Out of force of habit all the men stood straight, at attention.

"At ease," Kinkaid said, hiding a smile. "What have you found?" he asked. In a meeting with the members of his first team a few hours ago, they had discussed their need to help find the men who had killed Chef. Everyone knew about the intel Aban had delivered, they also knew who it had been that shot Ben. Knowing that some of the terrorists had died in jail did not satisfy their desire for justice. If there was anyone else out there, they intended to find them and bring them in.

As much as he had agreed that they had the right to find justice for Ben, Kinkaid also knew that helping them get back to their lives was more important in the long run. While he had them standing somewhat at attention, he reminded them that there was a lock-down in effect, and that if they were going to help, it would be from inside. The message had gotten through.

Now he knew that they had not let him down. Their surveillance with the exterior cameras had paid off. Now all they had to do was come up with a plan.

. .oOo.

"Do you want to be alone?" Stephanie quietly asked when they reached the seventh floor. Though he had waited for her after leaving the conference room, she was worried that hearing Ben's last words had hurt him as much as she had feared. She would understand if he wanted to process all of it on his own.

The door opened and he took a step inside. Turning, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him. "No, Babe," he said, just as quietly.

Stephanie led him to the couch. He was in pain, and although she knew that he would not say anything, she could tell by his careful movements. It was time for the pain killers that Bobby had left for him. She sat him down and left to grab the pills and a glass of water. Without a word she handed them to him.

Going through these motions, taking care of the man she loved felt so natural. Worrying about him was right too, and Stephanie let herself enjoy the emotions that came with it. She had realized last night that they still had not had time to talk. But after all that had happened, she felt that there were only a few words that she wanted to say.

Sitting down next to him, she tried to be careful not to bump him, but he shifted and pulled her closer to him. Stephanie felt Ranger kiss the top of her head as she cuddled up under his outstretched arm. She could stay here like this forever. His hand sought out hers and their fingers entwined, another perfectly natural move that strengthened their connection.

Emotions, some of which he could easily identify, and a few more that were a bit more difficult, built up around his heart. Nothing made him feel like he did when she was near him. The comfort he felt with her in his arms warmed him completely. He could stay like this forever.

"I love you," he said. They had not had the chance to have the talk that had been put off for so long, but these were the words he wanted to say to her. The only words that mattered.

She knew the moment he said them, that these were the only words that she had needed to hear. His actions usually spoke for him. Only now did she realize that she had been waiting for him to say the most important thing of all. And he did.

Her heart was full to bursting as she looked up at him. "Te amo," she said. The words that she'd been practicing in her head all this time, sounded even better when spoken out-loud. And the smile he gave her before his lips found hers said it all.

. .oOo.

TBC...

. .oOo.


	20. Chapter 20

. .oOo.

Chapter 20 Epilogue

Tense moments at the big red brick building on Haywood, seemed never to end. At nearly the very same place that Aban had been attacked, and subsequently rescued, came another onslaught. This time it looked like the terrorists, who were looking for Aban, were not going to hold anything back.

Another four man team had been sent to finish the job that had been started before. Aban was a loose end that had to be tied off. No one just left the organization, there were rules for this kind of situation. That's just the way it was.

As their car passed slowly by the RangeMan building, automatic machine guns sprayed bullets into the front door and windows. The bullet proof glass gave the men, on duty there, a good few minutes to alert everyone to what was happening. Immediately, all eyes at RangeMan were on the monitors that showed the front of the building.

"Look, there," Anson said, pointing to the shadows moving behind the car as it moved away. "It's a distraction. They wanted us to see them driving around out there."

McKay nodded and Chandler picked up his weapon. "It's now or never," Demo said with heat in his voice. His words were directed to all of the men standing in the circle, watching the action, but he knew it would be Anson who jumped up and led the way. The three of them were joined by two more rangemen who raced up to the roof with them.

With his head set in place, Lester updated Roy and Silvio, at the front desk, as he hurried to get down there with them. By the time he reached the main level, it had begun. With glass crashing around them, two of the terrorists broke through the cracked windows. Gunfire started immediately as one of the men tried to provide cover for the other one to get to the elevator.

He did not get that far. It was a horrible plan. A plan that had no way of working. Silvio was all over the first guy, and Roy was on the other one as Lester joined them and helped take them down. Once both men were contained, the guys looked up at each other. This did not feel right.

Just then, a huge explosion outside, rocked the building. "There goes the getaway car," Lester said, only half joking.

Moments later the final act started. The glow of the burning car lit the faces of the fourth terrorist and his hostage. So this was their last resort. Still not a great plan, grabbing some random person off the street, but far more effective than anything else they had tried.

Lester stood to face them. He had seen this guy, the hostage, before. Usually he was as loud and obnoxious as the rest of his friends that he hung out with. In the grip of a man with a mask over his face, however, the punk kid with facial piercings and tats did not look so tough.

What a bummer, Lester thought. Poor kid, it was a classic case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. No matter what kind of attitude the kid usually demonstrated, Lester was glad to see that he was smart enough to know to keep his mouth shut now.

Step by step, they got closer. Lester saw Sal moving up behind them, and he locked his blank face in place. Demands were being shouted to him. This guy really did think that he had the upper hand here. He was demanding that Aban be brought to him.

When he was close enough to look Lester in the eye, lowered his voice into a menacing growl. "The boy will die," he said, "If I do not see Aban Lufti here in one minute."

Lester did not say anything, he just stood there. This angered the man, who pushed the kid another step forward and started yelling in his own language. They were nearly face to face now, and still Lester did nothing.

His face twisted in anger just as he was grabbed from behind. His grip loosened on his hostage and Lester grabbed the kid and pulled him away as Sal slammed the man to the ground placing his knee on his throat. "Not one more word," Sal ground out the words with deliberation.

Sirens were heard now, getting closer and closer. Flashing red and blue lights announced the arrival of both the TPD and the fire department. Cars screeched to a halt and officers swarmed the area. Sal waited until Roy and Silvio handed over the men they had before he hauled up the last guy and gave him to the cops. His actions were not gentle nor were they kind. He wanted this man to know that he had made the biggest mistake of his life coming here like that.

From the roof top, Anson looked down at the mess below. Who knew that the rangemen had a small rocket launcher in their arsenal. He glanced over at Chandler now. He stood at ease, the weapon at his side, and the flashing lights playing on his face. It was hard to read the expression.

When they had brought out the weapon earlier, he had been like a kid in a candy store. Lifting it up to his shoulder, he had been impressed with the balance of the weight, all smiles as he looked over the finely crafted piece.

Victor slapped Chandler on the back. "Nice shot man," he said. Chandler smiled, it had been a long time since he'd done anything like this. And while it was nice to see he still had it in him, he knew that his warrior days were over. He handed the launcher to Victor and turned to his friends.

"Lets go home," he said. McKay and Anson couldn't agree more. And together they left the scene, with its bright flashing lights and loud noises, behind them. They had done what they'd come for. Ben's killers had been found. Dealt with. It was time to go.

And though they did not say so. They all knew they would be together again soon. For the funeral. To say a final goodbye to Chef. Those words were too hard to say just yet.

. .oOo.

Sarah, or as she was going by now, Emily, held on tight as Vasya, no Zurie, no David, zipped through traffic on the motorcycle. She suppressed a gasp at the clandestine nature of their life right now. None of what was happening was like anything she had ever done before. Not even acting as a spy in the White House had held this kind of thrill, or danger.

Truth be told, some of that came from the fact that she had never been on a motorcycle before. If she gave it any thought, she'd admit that she had always been too scared to even want to try it. That had not changed, except now there was this part where she got to plaster herself up to the man she had fallen in love with. Suddenly her fears seemed to take a back seat to the sheer joy she felt to be with him this way.

Her grip around him tightened as he zipped through the streets. He seemed to be taking the scenic route through the city. Switching from neighborhoods to the highway, crossing bridges, circling around until she didn't even know where they were. All of a sudden, they ended up near the Pentagon.

Since there was no way to ask him what he was doing, while they were on the bike, Sarah was completely confused. The package in her backpack had airline tickets, why weren't they headed to the airport? When he stopped and turned off the engine, she thought that maybe he would give her an explanation. But he did not move, and he did not speak.

Carefully she climbed off of the bike and walked around to face him. Though he did not look at her, she could see the haunted look in his eyes, and it alarmed her. Sarah grabbed his hands and brought them to her lips. A simple gesture meant to give comfort for whatever seemed to be bothering him.

Slowly his eyes moved to find hers. She held her breath, what could be so bad that he would look like this, she wondered. Zurie took a deep breath and reached for her. Wrapping his arms around her, he finally whispered into her ear.

"I have to do something," he said. "Before we leave, I have to make this right."

Sarah pulled back, understanding beginning to dawn. He had said something like this that night he had said goodbye to her. They were drunk, at least she was. The vodka that he had brought had been unlike anything she had ever experienced, and not being much a drinker anyway, it went straight to her head.

But now that he had said the words, she remembered how intense he had been. His whole life had been a lie, he'd said with quite a bit of venom in his voice. He had been chosen, years ago. Chosen to be this person, to fulfill their plan. The only choice he'd had, he told her with sincerity, was the choice to do the best that he could in the role he'd been given. He'd be dead otherwise.

She had thought that maybe he'd been a little bit drunk too when he had said that. But now, seeing the stricken look on his face, she knew that it had been true. How could that be? She didn't know, but in her heart she knew that she would do anything to put a smile back on his face.

"What can I do?" she asked. He said nothing for a long time. Sarah gently grabbed his chin with her hand and turned his face toward her. "Zurie, tell me what we need to do."

As if coming out of a trance, he looked down at her. She was concerned, she was frightened. He had done that to her and it stabbed at his heart to see her so worried. But he realized that she could help him. At first he had not wanted to get her involved, this was his problem.

How could he ask her. But no, she had offered her help to him. And truly, she was the answer. Zurie kissed her gently on the cheek, and smiled. Her eyes lit up and under the disguise that she wore, he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever met. He had never let himself love another, never in his life had he hoped to know what it would be like to be loved. But it was there in her eyes. Her love. He was the luckiest man in the universe.

Hope bloomed. Maybe this would work after all. Taking his pack from the back of the bike, he pulled out a large manila envelope. Sarah noticed that it was stuffed to its capacity, taped around the edges to keep it together. And, more importantly, it was addressed to one of the directors of Homeland Security.

Without asking, she knew what this was all about. For as long as she had known him, Zurie, or better yet Vasya, had been a spy. She had helped him, for the last year, in getting the secrets to steal from the US and many other governments.

Most of the time she had been able to justify what she had been doing. The greater good, and all that, like Vasya had told her when he recruited her help. But there had been times that the intel, that she had to pass along, seemed too dangerous to let anyone see. Her first instinct was to pretend that she had not heard it, did not know anything about it. At those times she had cringed at the fact that she had taken part in any of this.

If she was right, the contents of this package would ease her conscience, as well as his, by giving these secrets back. Along with the identities of the players they had seen in the game. Knowing what had been stolen, and shared, and by whom, was the first step in containing the damage that could be done.

Knowing that Zurie was the kind of man to follow his conscience made Sarah's heart burst with pride. It would do them both a world of good to get this done. She took the package from him, nodding her understanding.

This would not be a simple thing to do, no one just drops by the Pentagon and hands over a bulging package without raising a bunch of questions and a few alarms. But it was late so they had the cover of darkness to aid them. And the fact that there were fewer people around was helpful too. Zurie had given this a lot of thought.

Getting back on the bike, Zurie took them to the south side parking lot. As was often the case, it was used as a staging area for various events during the year. Right now, a freedom walk was scheduled for tomorrow. Tents were already set up for registration first thing in the morning. If they slipped the package under the tent flap, it would be discovered early the next day.

Keeping close to the row of tents and temporary fencing covered in tarps, he was able to get within a few yards of the main tent. When he stopped, Sarah jumped off and shimmied between the tents to place the package near the entrance. Her heart was pounding and a trickle of cold sweat dripped down her back as she raced back to the bike.

The ride back out of the lot seemed to take forever, but they did not dare go any faster or make any more noise than they had to. Finally they hit the streets and quickly disappeared in the night. Their next stop was the airport, and a few hours later they were in the air.

Sarah was pretty sure that she had seen the last of the states for a very long time. She gazed out of the window, seeing only complete darkness, her thoughts were not on what she was leaving, but on what she had just gained.

Zurie was beside her. She had secretly loved him for so long. But never in her wildest dreams had Sarah ever imagined that he had felt the same way. No matter what the future held for them now, they had each other. And that was all she needed.

. .oOo.

Nia was still in her uniform when she stepped off of the plane. It had not been the way she had intended to travel on her flight home, but nothing about the last few days had been planned. So here she was, a few days early, but ready to see what her future held.

By the time she made her way to the luggage carousel, she had seen the many looks that had been directed her way. Keeping her head up, and smiling in return, she had to admit to feeling that pride that comes with earning this uniform.

Before she saw them, Nia could hear a familiar sound. Even at this short notice, she had a welcoming committee. And when they saw her rounding the corner, her mother led the crowd with her arms open and a big smile on her face. Aunts, uncles, cousins all descended on her. Everyone was here with her. All they needed was some confetti and it could be a parade, she thought a bit facetiously.

It wasn't just her uniform garnering attention anymore. Nothing to be done about it now, Nia loved her family, and she was not unaware of how hard it had been on her mother to have her so far away. But really, this was a little over the top. She moved into the waiting arms and hugged her mom tight.

"Oh, you shouldn't have," Nia laughed. Her mother saw the smirk and playfully hit her shoulder as she stepped back. Still, the gleam in her eyes let Nia know that there was never any doubt that she would welcome home her only daughter with as much fanfare and love as she could muster.

That look could also say that the rest of the day was planned for her, and there was nothing that she could say that would change that. Nia nodded. Off to her mother's house they would go, to a big, loud family party.

The phone call that she wanted to make was going to have to wait. Nia sighed and collected her suitcases. Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder, she moved everyone along. The sooner they got this party started, the sooner she could try to have a quiet moment for that call.

She had missed this, Nia thought, sitting in her mother's backyard, breathing in the damp air and the sweet fragrance of the many roses that bloomed here. Only a few people still remained, but enough that she could not take her leave, unnoticed, just yet.

When her mother came to sit next to her, Nia had her eyes closed. She was listening to the cicadas song that, she realized, was so different from the crickets she had heard just last night. "So," her mother said. "Who is he?"

Nia's eyes popped open, her head jerked around to see her mother laughing. "Who?" Nia repeated the word, dumbfounded. "What do you mean who?" She had not said a word to her about Tank. There had not been time. They had only just met, and besides, she was still trying to work out what had happened.

"Oh, now darlin, there is no fooling me," Nia heard her mother say, through the buzzing in her head. How could she know? "It is plain to see that some man has come along and stolen your heart."

It was no use, Nia had never kept secrets from her mother, and she had not intended to now. Its just that being back home, everything looked different than it had in Arizona. Her doubts and fears made her worry that she had imagined it, seen too much in his looks, his smile, his kiss.

So she told her the story of the very tall, very large gentleman whom she had met only a few days ago. She said that she could not stop thinking about him. That she thought he felt the same way too, because he had been so wonderful, so sweet, so romantic when they had met the second time and had been able to eat lunch together.

Listening as only a mother can, she reached out and touched her daughter's hand. Then she asked the question, the very one that Nia had been wrestling with. "What are you going to do about it?"

. .oOo.

General Douglas Kinkaid did not usually like being kept waiting. But his visit to the pentagon today was a special occasion. He was willing to take the time he needed to speak to the right man. Directed to wait in his office, Kinkaid wandered over and stood by the window with an incredible view.

Overlooking the Potomac, Kinkaid took in the boats below and the fighter planes above. It was an impressive sight. He stood with his shoulders back, and a deep sense of pride filled his chest. The protection and security of this country had been his charge for a number of years. And he was here in that capacity once more.

The door behind him opened and Kinkaid spun around. "Kinkaid," the man said, as he entered and approached his desk. Social pleasantries were not necessary, not for these men, but he smiled and said them anyway. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today?"

"A bit of excitement here today?" Kinkaid said, referring to the extensive wait, but also to the protocol that had placed the building in a temporary lock-down shortly after he arrived.

The reluctance to say anything, to make up a plausible excuse, flashed over Director Scade's face. But this was his old friend, if he couldn't be honest with him, who could he trust?

"A package arrived, and not in the usual way," he said with meaning. "And you know what we do when that happens," Scade said.

"Can I ask what was in the package?" Kinkaid made his way to the chair opposite the desk. He sat, watching those facial clues carefully. He and Ken Scade went way back, both had the military background to give them some perspective to what had happened today.

"Intel," he said simply. "Arrived in a package designed and delivered to get attention."

"Interesting, have you checked any of it out?" Kinkaid asked, knowing full well that Ken would not even be here until after he knew what they were dealing with. In light of what he himself had to show him, Kinkaid was more than interested in what other intel had shown up so mysteriously.

The brief discussion that followed told Kinkaid exactly what he needed to know. By some strange coincidence, the package that had arrived today confirmed what he had. Because what they both had in common was the fact that Chef Ben Davron had worked with both sources of this intel.

From what Scade had shared, Kinkaid was pretty sure that the package had only contained a comparatively limited amount of information concerning the network of spies that existed in and around the White House. What he was bringing put a whole new perspective to that information.

Kinkaid sat back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. The relaxed stance was meant to give emphasis to what was said next, and Scade knew it. He leaned forward, not wanting to miss a thing. He gave his friend a small nod.

"Ken, I have something to give you, something that you need to see," The director's eyebrow rose a hair, but he still tried not to seem too eager. They both knew the drill. But this was not about negotiations or having the upper hand.

"I'm listening," Scade said, waiting.

Kinkaid pulled out his own laptop with the zip-drive. That brought another look of surprise from Scade. "Take a look," Kinkaid said, as he slid the computer across the desk.

Scade spent a silent five minutes looking at the data. But it did not take him that long to see that what they had here would blow the lid off the espionage game in the capital. Presently, he let out a long breathy whistle and looked up in amazement.

"Doug," he said. "Where did you get this?"

It was quite a day for the DOD. Under the direction of Director Scade the sources information about terrorist cells and classified information were shared with the appropriate agencies. Kinkaid watched long enough to see that he had started the ball rolling. When he left, he gave Scade the copy of the drive, but let him know that he was keeping the original for security purposes. Yeah, they knew the drill.

Kinkaid was satisfied, and quite pleased that things had worked out the way they had today. In the back of his mind, he wondered who it had been that had come to the point that they wanted to end the way things were being done in DC. They had taken a risk, every bit as much as Aban had. Though by doing it anonymously it had let them hide under an extra layer of protection. If they were ever discovered, there could be some ugly reprecussions. But that was a thought for another day.

Right now, he had another task. This one much more unpleasant, and very personal.

. .oOo.

For the moment, things had quieted down at RangeMan. Not quite back to business as usual. That would not happen until their guests had left. Ranger's friends were taking advantage of the time they had left to be together. They had all ended up in the break room to wait. That was probably because Ella had worked her magic again, with enough food to create a festive mood as they waited.

Stephanie reached up to grab the napkins from one of the higher shelves. She had been helping Ella set out everything for lunch and snacks for everyone. Ranger saw her when he entered the room and came up from behind her. When he wrapped his arms around her, she let out a little squeal of surprise.

That drew the attention of everyone in the room. And the teasing began. Ranger in love was a sight to behold and his friends felt the need to mark the occasion with whistles and clever comments. Most of which Ranger pretended not to hear. It was like having little brothers along an a date, and they earned a few impressive eye rolls from both Ranger and Stephanie.

Ian, formerly known by the team as 'Saint' for his tendency to quote scriptures, stepped up and clapped his hand on Ranger's shoulder. "You know man," he said. "I'm a licensed priest now. I can perform a marriage ceremony any time, anywhere you want.

The laughter erupted again. They were enjoying this, but what they didn't know, as Ranger sat down, was that he was filing away that comment for future use. He had not done so yet, but it was his intention to give Stephanie the ring he had for her. The right time had not come up yet. But it would not be long now, he couldn't stand to wait much longer.

Tank had also noted Ian's comment. This was a bit of a shock to him. Thoughts of marriage were not usually the first thing on his mind. At least they never had been before, but after meeting Nia, things had started to change. Realizing that he thought of her so often because he wanted to have her in his life was a revelation. No one had ever touched his heart and mind like this.

Quietly Tank walked out into the hall. Pulling out his phone, he tried to find her again. This time he asked to speak with Mitch Gielen, hoping to bypass the air-headed secretary who couldn't seem to find Nia, every other time he'd called.

The ploy worked and Tank smiled when Mitch came on the line. That smile faded at the news that Nia was no longer there. His heart nearly stopped, he suddenly felt cold. The idea that he would never find her again paralyzed him. Mitch was still talking, but it was more like a buzz in his ear as Tank tried to clear his mind from the depressed fog that had moved in.

"...home in just a few hours." Gielen was saying. Tank caught the tail end of that statement, and felt hope spread its warm blanket over him. Mitch knew where she lived, he could still get that information, meaning that he still had a shot at finding her.

Interrupting him, Tank desperately asked for Nia's phone number at home. Mitch seemed to take such pleasure in sharing this information with him, and the moment he had it, Tank tried to end the conversation. "Thanks, I appreciate it," he said before ending the call and immediately entering the number he'd been given.

In a delayed reaction, his heart started pounding so loud he could hear it in his ears. This was a local area code. Nia lived in New Jersey. He'd been prepared to fly across the nation to find her and she was right here. He had to take a deep breath as all of this new information was processed in his mind.

Overlooking the north rim of the Grand Canyon, Mitch looked out at the view as he slowly placed the phone back in its cradle. A very satisfied smile spread across his face. If he was not mistaken, he had just witnessed the proof that this man was as in love with Nia as she was with him.

He imagined the look on Tank's face when he recognized the area code and let it sink in that she was only half an hour away from him. Oh, yes, Mitch thought, his wife was going to love hearing the update on Nia's love at first sight story.

. .oOo.


	21. Chapter 21

. .oOo.

Chapter 21 Epilogue part 2

Tom's river had been a beautiful place to grow up. Nia looked out at the view from her mother's back yard. Nearly everyone here had a great view of the river, which was really an inlet from the Atlantic Ocean. It was no wonder that she had developed such a love for nature, it all started right here.

The view was not holding her attention now, not like it usually did. Nia turned and walked back to the house. The phone in her hand dropped to the table as she walked by. Her emotions were in turmoil. After her mother's little pep talk, she had been so excited to call Tank.

Over and over she had dialed his number, and over and over again it was busy, and she got the voice mail. Of course by that time, she had been so nervous she couldn't bring herself to leave a message. Thinking that if she just kept trying, she would eventually find him, Nia waited as long as she could and dialed again.

She might as well pack it in and get to her apartment. The party was now officially over, since all of her relatives had finally cleared out of her mother's house. It had been a good day, she reminded herself of that.

Finding that her new boss wanted her to start immediately, in her dream job, had started it all. As hard as it was to say goodbye to Mitch and the guys at the station, this is where she belonged. And, this was the perfect place to be.

The man she had met was here, so close by, too. Just like it was all meant to be. Nia sighed, then why, she wondered, couldn't she find him. Shaking these thoughts from her head, she hugged her mother and loaded her things into the back of her car that she had left here with her mother over three months ago.

The ten minute drive to her own place was quiet, and uneventful. And finally she was home. A quick word with the neighbors assured her that the couple that sub-leased her place had been nice and friendly, and most importantly, had moved out a few days ago.

Dragging her luggage inside, Nia dropped into a chair. And despite all the logical arguments she played out in her head, instead of heading in for a shower, she took out her phone and dialed the number again. It rang and rang and rang, and then a deep voice said "Hello."

. .oOo.

His job was never done. Kinkaid watched as boxes were delivered to the conference room. He was going to be leaving soon, there were some people he needed to talk to personally, but before he left, he had some parting gifts, so to speak, for his team.

The men started showing up, as requested, and they stood with the general while the rest of the boxes were set out on the long table. Not a word was spoken, as far as they knew, they had one last debriefing before they could go home. Standard procedure, no surprise there. But the boxes were a mystery, and they waited patiently to find out what Kinkaid had in store for them this time.

Tank stood at the door, he was eager to have this last meeting all finished up. His phone call an hour ago had not been what he had hoped. Nia Alkins, had not been available, and whoever it was who had answered the phone did not seem to know anything. Tank was worried that the message he had left wouldn't find its way to her. This had him set on edge, and all he could think of was finally being able to talk to her.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Ranger and Stephanie arrived. They were all here now, and Tank followed them in to the room. Without inviting anyone to sit, Kinkaid started talking. And the men remained standing.

"Gentlemen," he said solemnly."As you know, we have accomplished what we set out to do..."

The men made sounds of agreement, "And a whole lot more." Kinkaid continued. "I will be taking the intel brought to us by Aban Lufti to the Pentagon today. We can all be proud that Ben Davron was instrumental in getting it to us."

The general took a deep breath now. He looked around the room, these were his men. He would always think of them not only as the best team he had ever worked with, but as the best of the best in every meaning of the word. Their loyalty ran deep, and it was with a bit of difficulty that he said the next words.

"While we have been doing our work, the recovery team packed up Ben's belongings from his home in Arizona." He gestured to the boxes, there were eleven of them. Each labeled. It was now that the guys looked carefully and saw that their names were on these boxes.

"These items were found, organized and labeled, just like this," Kinkaid said. He walked over and set a hand on the top of the box closest to him. "Ben left them for you," he said. "There is nothing more for me to say, except thank you."

He was right, no other words were needed. They had come for Ben, and they had found justice for him. Kinkaid moved toward the door, then he turned to face them again. "Arrrangements have been made for you to get back to your families." At this he nodded to Ranger, whose men had taken care of those details for them. He left them to pick up their boxes. The rest was up to them.

Stephane watched as Ranger stepped up to the table. At first he had wanted to open this in private. But noticing the hesitation in the rest of the men, he made a decision. And the moment he opened the flap of the box, he knew it had been the right one.

This was his team. Ben's team. When they had been together, they had done everything as one. Now it seemed that it was his last wish to let them feel that bond once more. One by one, the guys opened their boxes too.

Private moments were shared in silence. And a few memories were recounted with smiles and a few laughs too. But there was one thing that each of them left for later, for when they were alone. Letters, tied together in paracord. The ones that Chef had had such a hard time writing. But here they were for his brothers. He wouldn't let them down. And, in the end, he didn't.

. .oOo.

The equipment in Hector's office was unlike anything Aban had ever seen. Hector was pleased to see the awe and amazed look in his eyes. He was always so happy to show off what he had built, especially to someone who knew what they were looking at.

Since his arrival, Hector had been taking Aban under his wing. He liked the guy, and though he was quiet and shy, they had easily fallen into a comfortable relationship. Hector liked to think that Aban was a lot like him. Just a bit of an outsider, since he did not have the military background that most of the other rangemen had.

Being confined to the building for as long as they had, Hector had shown Aban around, given him the 'grand tour'. Aban was impressed with everything he saw, and he liked the men he met. This was the kind of atmosphere that he had envisioned when he and Mahir had joined the organization.

People with a common cause working together. But after years, he had seen that it had been only an illusion. He had come to believe that that kind of place did not exist. And yet, here it was. So many different personalities, so many talents, and they all came together to make things work. To make things right. It resonated with him, and Aban found himself wishing that he could stay here.

After Hector talked him into a workout in the gym, Aban went back to the room he was staying in for a shower. There on the bed was a pile of clothes. That surprised him, but Aban realized that he had only come with a very few things. And the truth was, he had no clean clothes so this gesture not only surprised him, he realized that he needed what they had offered.

Aban turned a few heads when he walked into the break room dressed from head to toe in black. RangeMan black. From the other side of the room, Ella smiled. He looked good, she had guessed his size perfectly. And darned if he didn't look like he fit in here. Hector saw the same thing, and he decided to act on the idea he had had down in his office.

With permission from Cal, Hector approached Ranger about taking Aban in as a tech support trainee. Ranger listened to his recommendations and agreed to give him a chance. That was all Hector needed, he thanked him and rushed out of the office.

To say that Aban was shocked would have been an understatement. He nodded, no words were ready for a few minutes as he fought for composure. This was more than he deserved, more than he ever thought was possible. "Yes," he said. "Thank you, yes!" "Thank you," he said again. And he truly meant it.

Though he did not consciously think it, he knew that he had found a place to belong. He could not go home, that bridge had been burned long ago. He had no friends, Mahir had been the only one and he was gone. Not in years had he felt like this. He was in the right place. In only hours, he knew this. After all this time, he had found his home, his family.

. .oOo.

The living room at the Ellis's house was exactly as he remembered it. Kinkaid entered slowly, knowing that this was not the visit that any of them ever wanted to have. He was their friend, practically a part of the family. This news should come easier from him than from a stranger, shouldn't it.

At the moment, it did not feel like it, not to Doug Kinkaid. He looked over to the portrait above the fireplace. The family as it had been, painted years before any of this had happened. Nick, little Nicky, was smiling big and bright, his whole world, and his future ahead of him. It was a stab in his heart to see the boy that he had been.

And now he sat across from them. Nick's parents knew what was coming. After years of watching their son go through such troubling times, they knew deep down that something bad would happen. But Kinkaid was sure that they had never imagined that Nick would have ever done something like this. That he would have died like this.

The story he told was a short one. Many of the details were left out. What good would it do to say it all? Whatever he knew would be coming out in the news was spoken, they had to know that much at least. Later, maybe with just Tony, he would answer any questions that he had. But not now, not with Cheryl looking so fragile, so broken.

They hugged him as he left. He tried to comfort them. It was not to be, not today. Kinkaid left them holding each other up, for support. Someday there would be good times again. They would laugh and smile with each other again. But not today.

. .oOo.

Thin clouds stretched over the sapphire blue skies. An amazing sight on a beautiful day, but Tank did not give much attention to it. His mind was busy as he made his way up to the lighthouse at the end of the sandy path he was walking. Bits of their conversation played over in his mind. Hearing her voice again had done some wonderfully amazing things to him, pulling him out of the dark mood he had not even realized he'd been sinking into.

The first few moments of the call had been odd. 'Nia' was on the screen, so he knew it was her, he had programmed her number into his phone. But when he answered, there had seemed to be no one there. Thinking back, he realized that she had probably dropped the phone when she heard his voice.

Probably thought that he wasn't going to answer, and when he did, the shock must have gotten to her. He knew exactly how she felt. How many times had he experienced that himself? Enough to wonder if the universe was trying to keep them apart for some reason. Yeah, a bit dramatic, but not unexpected under the circumstances.

His footsteps were practically silent as he approached the door at the base of the lighthouse. Nia would be in the light room. She had told him that was where he could find her. So he entered, hurrying over to the circular stairs that would take him up to where she was.

His heart beat harder with each step, all two hundred and seventeen of them. Spiraling around and around on its ascent, he finally saw the end in sight. Only seconds away from being able to see her again. To touch her again. Its all he had been thinking of. Now he was almost there.

The last step took him to a small circular room with the base of the huge light in its center. He could not see Nia, and a bit of panic gripped him. Then he spotted another small set of stairs. Tank rushed over to them, what was another ten steps if they would take him to her.

At the top, he saw her. The sun was streaming in through the windows that surrounded her. There was a glow about her, and it took what was left of his breath away. She turned when she heard him.

"Tank," she whispered. Her voice was not cooperating with her, her nerves had been getting to her the longer she waited for him to arrive. No matter that he was right on time, it felt like she had been waiting forever to see him again.

Just the sound of his name from her sent chills up his spine. He hoped that this was not his imagination. He had played this moment over in his head so many times, could it actually be real now? The answer came immediately. Nia stepped toward him and reached out her hands. In an instant, they were encased in his and he pulled her even closer.

Close enough that he could smell her perfume. Close enough to feel the warmth of her body. Close enough for her to hear him speak her name, so softly, gently, it was not much more than a breath. She tilted her head to look into his eyes.

"You're here," she said, her smile lighting up her face more than the sun ever could.

. .oOo.

The letters were so hard to read. There was a stack of about ten of them, none of them had actually been finished. Ranger got the feeling that Ben had been having a hard time writing these, that he had so many because he'd been finding it hard to say what he needed to, and he just kept starting over, hoping that the words would come.

The words he had written pulled at Ranger's heart. Ben had felt so guilty for betraying his country. Even more so because he had actually taken the money that had been given to him for it. He believed that it was his only choice, in order to protect his wife, his family, even his ranger friends. What terrible pressure he had been under, and Ranger had never known, none of them had.

Could they have helped him if he had told them? Ranger wanted to believe they could have, but no matter what had happened in the past day or two, or maybe because of it, he knew that it would have been dangerous, and Ben may not have been the only one who got killed because of it.

"I'm sorry." Ben had written the words over and over again. Never finding the way to take away the hurt, the pain of what he had done.

Again Ranger felt the heavy burden of guilt. He had tried to keep in contact with his friend. E-mails, nearly weekly, at least when he'd been in the country. Not as many calls since he'd married Melissa. And nothing since the divorce. Ben had disappeared after that.

Could he have tried harder to be there for Ben? That question would haunt him for a very long time. There was no good answer.

Ranger set the pages on the desk and sat back. Stephanie was on the couch, watching him. She had offered to leave his office, letting him have some time alone to read the letters, but he had asked her to stay.

Now she knew why. So often he did not show his emotions. Now, however he could not hide the anguish that he was feeling. It made her heart ache. A thousand times over the past weeks, she had been afraid of what this pain could do to him. What it could do if it got between them. She was no longer worried about it that way. There was going to be pain when you lose someone you love.

But she was here now, and she would do all she could to ease it. That was something that she could offer. Without a word, she stood and walked over to him. He watched her move, his heart already soothed because she was here. He reached out his hand to her and when she took it, he pulled her in to sit on his lap. Wrapping his arms around her was all he wanted.

When she enfolded him in her arms, he realized that being held by her was what he had needed. He closed his eyes, the warmth of her love spread through his body and his mind. The weight of guilt was lifted. She had done that for him. By loving him.

. .oOo.

Two funerals in two days. The team was together for both of them. Solemn occasions, and sad. So sad. Both of their former team mates were gone. There were no words to say after all that had happened. The silence spoke for them.

It had taken tragedy to bring the whole team, the friends, back together. Something about that was just not right, so Stephanie determined to do something about it. She asked everyone if they could come to a party a week later. She wanted them to have a celebration, of friends, of life.

They met at Pino's. It was the logical place. A happy place. They cloistered themselves in the back and told stories.

Lots of memories were shared that filled in so many of the details about these men, and their lives as Rangers. Stephanie loved that part of the evening. And she loved the way Ranger looked. He was able to relax more now, and with that came his thousand watt smile.

It was crowded, and loud and absolutely crazy, and fun. Stephanie leaned back and watched them. Time would heal their pain, already they were feeling the weight of it lifting. She was glad that they could start to remember the good times with Chef.

And it was nice to meet their better halves. The women in their lives said a lot about these men. Her gaze went to Tank and Nia. He had taken a lot of razzing from the guys who recognized her from their stay at the Grand Canyon. Some of them had not noticed the connection when they were there, but they could not mistake it now.

Nia fit in with the group, teasing them right back, asking about their nicknames. She got them talking about the first time that they had seen their wives, things that some of them had not thought about in a long time, but now brought back all the intensity and power of those moments. A lot of love was being shared tonight.

Ranger had his arm draped across her shoulders. Every so often he would squeeze her and pull her close. He had a secret, one that he had not wanted to keep this long, but it was just the way things had worked out.

Finally, when the attention was on Lester, who was telling one of his taller tales. Ranger took Stephanie's hand. She looked up at him and smiled. It had been a revelation, every day lately, that everything was so right between them. What had she been scared of, she wondered. Why had it taken so long for her to let this happen? One thing she knew for sure, she would never make that mistake again. When you love someone, you tell them. And she did, often.

Like now, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek before whispering the words in to his ear. Ranger knew that this was the time. He could not wait any longer if he tried. The ring that he had been carrying around in his pocket for days was instantly in his hand. And he slipped it on her finger as he kissed her.

He pulled back, just a little, and had just long enough to see her nodding before she threw her arms around his neck and hugged tight. "Yes, Babe?" he asked softly, his voice a bit strangled from her hold, and from the emotions pouring through him.

"Yes!" she said. "Oh yes!" her words were no more than a whisper either, but he heard them loud and clear. Yes!

From across the room, Ian nodded. They had not all seen the smooth move. The proposal, such as it was. But he had, and he most definitely approved. Ranger's eyes met his for a moment and it was understood. "Set the date," Ian said, "And I'll be there."

Suddenly all eyes were on Stephanie and Ranger. She tucked herself closer to him, a bit shy that everyone knew, but her smile beamed. And they all knew that it would not be long before they would be getting back together again. Next time for a wedding.

. .oOo.

A/N

It's never easy for me to end a story. I have enjoyed spending this time with our favorite characters, and with you. :)

And for all of you who were kind enough to leave your reviews, I have apprecited all of your kind words and participation all along the way. Thank you so much! :)

. .oOo.

CarolB - Thank you for saying so... look up Sandra St James (that's me) on Amazon... :)

. .oOo.


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